


He's Breathing

by TooSel



Series: Breathing [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PTSD, Pining, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2841704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooSel/pseuds/TooSel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggins has worked very hard to get into elite university Erebor, which is where he meets his new roommate - the utterly captivating, yet inaccessible Thorin. But sooner than he thinks Bilbo breaks through the hard shell, and as he gets to know the man behind it he realises that he’s more human and more flawed than he’d ever imagined, and it doesn't take long before a strong bond is formed and an unlikely relationship sprouts in the halls of Erebor university.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Erebor University

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first Bagginshield fic. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it.
> 
> Please note that English isn't my native language and this is mostly unbeta'd. Any mistakes are my own. Feel free to point them out and I'll correct them! :)

It was Bilbo Baggins' first day at Erebor University and it already wasn't going too great.

He was standing in the middle of a big, nobly ornated court and stared at the massive building in front of him. This place was _huge_. He'd been walking around campus for half an hour, dragging his luggage behind him, and he still hadn't seen half of the institution he'd call home for the next three years. And he was late for his appointment with the linguistics professor. If only he knew where he was supposed to go to meet him, he could at least _try_ and make it there in time.

Bilbo repressed a sigh and took out his map again. _How ironic_ , he thought. He was going to study Geography, and he couldn't even read a map of the place properly.

In his defense, Erebor really was massive. Its floors and classrooms were twisted in a way that almost reminded him of a maze, going up and down and anywhere but straight ahead.

He ruffled his messy curls and almost cried from relief when he noticed a sign on his right, guiding him to the professors' offices. He grabbed his luggage, cursed himself for packing so much stuff because _damn it_ , the suitcase was heavy, and made his way inside the building.

 

Half an hour later Bilbo got out of the professor's study, after having been only slightly late and apologising about twenty more times than necessary. They'd been able to sort out all formalities concerning his double degree and now he was finally holding his timetable in his hands. He felt knackered. This term was going to be tough and it certainly wasn't going to get easier, but he was determined to make it. But for now it was time to look for his room and then rest a bit.

It was only when he stood in front of his dorm that he remembered the flats were built for three students, so he'd most likely share his with two other men. He swallowed and tried not to give in to the nervousness starting to brew in his stomach. He'd be fine, he told himself. They'd get along perfectly well. Why wouldn't they? No need to get flustered.

He went inside, looking for his room number. He took a deep breath when he found it, then opened the door and entered his new home.

His first impression was overwhelming. He'd heard all kinds of stories about university dorms and the conditions students had to live in. But this... this was amazing. Bilbo was standing in what he assumed was the living room, which was big enough to serve as a bedroom for three in itself. The furniture was dark and noble and looked more than a little expensive. On the wall was a flatscreen TV, surrounded by shelves already filled with books. He felt his face lighten up at the sight.

His eyes wandered over the small but sufficient looking kitchen, the dinner table big enough for six people and the chairs and armchairs. Bilbo had to admit that this flat was bigger and more luxurious than his parent's modest home. “Wow”, he mumbled and turned on his heels. Then he jumped and squeaked involuntarily as he noticed the two people watching him from the other side of the room.

For a second he forgot what he was supposed to say. The two men were some four or five years older than him. They sat on an expensive looking sofa and watched him without saying anything. One of them - he had an extraordinary haircut, the top of his head was bald and tattooed, farther down his hair started to grow again – had started to laugh at the sound Bilbo had made.

 _Stupid_ , he chastised himself. _First time meeting your new roommates and you do an impression of a mouse._

Then his thoughts got distracted by the other man leaning back on the sofa. His long, wavy hair was put back in a loose ponytail that gave him a very appealing look, and he was watching Bilbo silently out of his very piercing, very _beautiful_   blue eyes.

Oh. Bilbo's mouth went dry as he tried to gather his thoughts. He noticed that he stared at the man, but couldn't help himself. It could only have been mere seconds when he realised that his mouth hung open. He quickly shut it and finally ripped his eyes from the stranger. Blinking hastily, he felt his cheeks flushing.

 _Oh boy_ , he thought. _Way to leave a perfect first impression, Bilbo._

He took a step forward and cleared his throat. “Um, I'm sorry. Hi. My name's Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins. I live here.”

He squeezed his eyes before even finishing the sentence and tried not to groan.  _I live here?_ Seriously? They probably thought he was completely stupid already.

But he wasn't, Bilbo told himself. He was here; he'd gotten into Erebor university and worked very hard for it. And now he'd do a double degree. And he'd damn well own this.

He straightened his shoulders and met the half-bald guy's eyes. God, he was intimidating. But he was still grinning and Bilbo thought to himself that it didn't look spiteful at all. On the contrary.

“So do we,” the man stated and jumped up from the couch. He was even bigger up close. Bilbo swallowed and smiled tentatively.

“I assume you knew I was coming, then.”

“We did, but we were just beginning to hope you wouldn't show up after all.”

Bilbo's smile faded and he turned to look at the man who was still sitting on the sofa, regarding him from top to bottom. Somehow this was even more intimidating than the other man's bulky figure.

Bilbo opened and closed his mouth and then stared at his feet, not knowing what to say next. Well. That was a warm welcome.

He looked back up when the tattoed man approached him and offered his hand. “I'm Dwalin,” he stated. “That charming fella over there's my cousin Thorin.” Bilbo hurried to shake his hand, thankful for the interruption. Dwalin looked at him from hair to toes, his eyebrows raised. “I take it you're a fresher?” 

Bilbo nodded. “How old're you, then?” he inquired. Bilbo tried to make himself taller.

“I turned 19 a week ago,” he stated. Thorin snorted on the sofa.

“He looks more like 16,” he commented.

Bilbo gasped. He knew he was a rather small man. Really small, actually. And he did look younger than he was. But that was just uncalled for. That man, that Thorin had no right- just because he was already in his mid-twenties. And looked like a supermodel. He could _not_ -

Okay, he had _not_ just thought that. Bilbo shook himself and grabbed his suitcase. For the lack of a quick-witted remark, he decided not to grace that comment with a reply at all.

“Well. I'll just- I'm gonna. Hmng. Which one is my room?” he got out and precisely looked anywhere but at Thorin. Why was he sweating so much? He probably looked like a scared, spent rabbit. The thought was depressing.

Getting flustered when handsome, older men insulted you _really_ wasn't the way to go.

Dwalin raised his eyebrows and pointed to the last of the three doors on the wall. The bedrooms were rather small compared to the living area, and really close to each other.

Bilbo nodded and pulled the suitcase after him to the room, all the while sensing Thorin's gaze on his back. It made him feel rather funny. He just so managed not to stumble over his own feet while walking. When he'd closed the door he sunk onto his bed, without even looking around properly.

Well. That had started well. He didn't know what Thorin's problem was, but he certainly wasn't going to find out now. Maybe he just needed time to warm up. Yes, probably. That.

He thought about unpacking, but then decided to just leave it till the morning and get some rest now. He put clean sheets on his bed, changed into his pajamas and turned the lights off.

Then he crawled into bed and tried to sleep. It was his first night away and the yearning for home suddenly swapped over him. _This is home now_ , he told himself. _It will be soon enough._

All the impressions of his first day at university kept flooding his mind. He hadn't even started classes yet! Bilbo rubbed his eyes and tried very hard not to think of anything.

Most certainly not about Thorin's intense gaze and those beautiful, piercing blue eyes, anyway.

 


	2. Polishing His Image

It took Bilbo a few seconds when he woke up the next morning to remember where he was.

He sat up and blinked sleepily, really taking in the room for the first time. It was still foreign and not yet filled with his own things, but it held enough space and looked just fine. He'd only sleep here, anyway. The rest of his time he'd probably spend in the living room.

That thought brought back the memories of the night before. Bilbo swallowed and bit his lip. Maybe he wouldn't spend so much time there after all. The library seemed as good a place as any.

He shook his head and told himself to calm down. He'd met his roommates for all of two minutes; maybe they'd get along once they'd gotten used to each other. And Dwalin didn't seem so bad. He _did_   look terrifying, but he hadn't done anything to make Bilbo uncomfortable so far.

And as for Thorin - maybe he'd just had a bad night. He'd probably been stressed and exhausted as well, who could blame him? And even if he didn't like Bilbo, so what? He wasn't going to cry over not being liked by some tall, handsome, utterly captivating man. No. He absolutely wasn't.

Bilbo waited for a few more seconds, then he got up. He wasn't all that keen on going out there, but he'd have to sooner or later. Also, he realised when his stomach made a growling sound, he was really hungry. And maybe the other two weren't awake yet, anyway. He opened his door tentatively and found an empty living room. Relieved, he slipped into the bath.

A long shower later he emerged from the bathroom, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Thorin sitting at the table. He had a bowl with cereal from the cafeteria in front of him and was writing or scribbling something into a book. His dark hair was falling over his shoulders in waves, and Bilbo had to repress the sudden urge to walk up to him and touch it.

He briefly considered sneaking into his room without saying anything, but then chastised himself for the childish thought.

He wasn't running away from this. He lived here just as much as Thorin did. 

Before he could say anything, Thorin started to speak without looking up from his journal. “Are you going to do something, or will you just stand there like some sort of burglar all morning?”

Bilbo almost jumped again. “I actually just wanted to wish you a good morning, so... Good morning,” he finished lamely.

Oh god. He _so_ wasn't good at this.

At least Thorin hadn't sounded very annoyed, just like he was asking a neutral question. The man finally looked up and watched him with raised eyebrows. Bilbo felt his heartbeat increasing, but tried not to let it show. Thorin's gaze wasn't actually unfriendly. He just looked at him steadily, remaining silent all the while.

Bilbo took the chance to study the man's face more closely (whether that was the best idea he really didn't know, but honestly, how could he not?). Something about it was mesmerising. Bilbo took his time to let his gaze wander over his somewhat sharp features. Then he met Thorin's eyes again and tried _really_ hard not to get lost in them. It was only when the silence stretched out between them that he realised he'd failed. Miserably.

He also realised then that Thorin had watched him just as long as he'd been staring at him.

With the difference that he'd probably thought about what an idiot Bilbo was. Or how young and inferior he looked. Or what he'd have for dinner that night.

To prevent further awkwardness Bilbo snapped out of the moment and walked up to his room, strictly keeping his eyes from Thorin. He entered his room without another word and silently banged his head against the closed door. God, why was he like this? He couldn't handle himself, some days.

He sighed and ruffled through his curls. He'd call his mother, he decided. She'd distract him from his inner chaos.

 

A long phonecall later Bilbo took a snack from his luggage and went into the living room to eat it for lunch. While his notebook was left on the table, Thorin was nowhere near in sight. Bilbo really wanted to, but didn't dare open it.

Dwalin finally emerged from his room as he sat down and, after fetching himself food from the cafeteria, joined him at the table.

At first Bilbo was a little stiff, but when he realised that Dwalin didn't laugh at him or, for inexplicable reasons, disliked him already, he loosened up and went along with the conversation.

Dwalin was a relaxed person, easy to speak with. Throughout the conversation Bilbo learned that he was in his third year studying Geology, while Thorin was a fresher like him. When he (not anxiously, not at all) inquired what courses Thorin was taking, he felt a strange mix of relief and pity that he only shared one class with the dark, brooding stranger.

Apparently, Thorin was studying Economics and Politics. He'd share the International Politics class on Tuesday mornings with him, the one that was mandatory for his Geography studies for reasons he wouldn't even presume to understand.

“There's a party tonight,” Dwalin said between bites, interrupting Bilbo's thoughts. “Old tradition. To introduce all you freshers and welcome back us oldies. What d'you say? You wanna go?”

“Oh,” Bilbo opened his mouth to protest, “I- I don't really know. I don't suppose I'm much fun at parties. I've never been to one, to be honest. I don't know if I-”

“It'll be fun,” Dwalin promised. “We know how to throw a party here.” The smile that followed somehow really wasn't reassuring at all. When Bilbo still hesitated to say yes, he added, “C'mon, it'll be great. You'll get out of the house and meet some people from your courses, heh? Polish your image 'n all that.”

Bilbo had to agree that polishing his image was something he could use rather well - why was Dwalin thinking he didn't get out of the house a lot already, anyway? - and finally agreed to join him.

“Great," Dwalin said with satisfaction, “Thorin and I will leave here at ten. Make sure to be ready on time.”

He got up and left the plate in the sink before slipping into the bathroom. Bilbo was left sitting on his own at the table, with no chance to protest or even open his mouth.

Great. Just great.

 

 


	3. A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

Bilbo paced around his room nervously. He hadn't come out since dinner and it was almost time to leave for the party.

He could still say no, he thought. Tell Dwalin he'd changed his mind. Fake being sick. It was probably better that way. Thorin would surely be anything but delighted to hear that Bilbo was coming with him and his cousin. No problem with staying home after all.

And yet... Bilbo thought of what his mother had told him before he'd left for university. His parents had worried about him, as always. Before he'd left, his mother had taken him aside and made him promise to try and get the most out of this new experience. To strive for new things and not be afraid of them, to see where it lead him.

She'd always been like that, his mother. He envied her for being such a libertine. Bilbo always thought he came more after his father, the stay-at-home type who never had any adventures or did anything unexpected.

And yet. He also had his mother's blood running through his veins. And sometimes he _felt_ what she was talking about, the desire to go out and try things and have adventures. Wasn't it showing in his choice of university, too? He'd made it his mission to get into an elite university and do a double major. And he'd succeeded- he'd moved across the country to go to Erebor. It was true that once he set his mind to something, he didn't give it up that easily. That was definitely his mother's side in him.

And if he'd done that, he decided, he could damn well go to that party, with Thorin, and not care about what the man was thinking of him.

Bilbo shook his head over himself. He was going to a party, not on a quest to rob someone or anything. Why was he making such a fuss? Maybe Thorin wouldn't even care that he came. He probably didn't give him enough thought to care...

 _Enough_ , Bilbo scolded himself. All that stress for a party! A party he was going to with the most intriguing, captivating man he'd ever met, mind you. Not that said man knew he was going with him, or wanted to. But you couldn't have everything in life.

Bilbo straightened his back and opened the door. “Are you ready to go?”

 

Thorin apparently already knew Bilbo was coming along. He looked at him with narrowed eyes, but refrained from saying anything. Bilbo swallowed and tried not to look like a scared little bunny, which was precisely how he felt.

Why did Thorin's gaze send shivers down his spine? He was most definitely  _not_  crushing on the man. He did not do such things.

Dwalin completely ignored the silence between his gloomy looking cousin and the nervous younger man, and cheerfully led them to the party. They could hear the music long before seeing the open door. The three men entered the dorm's common room and Bilbo gasped at the scene he saw.

The room was huge and it was _beautiful._

The noble looking furniture was put aside and the middle of the room was free for people to dance and... do other things, Bilbo realised quickly. The dancefloor was framed by two lines of sofas opposite each other and ended with a huge fireplace at the end of the room, whose flames burned bright. The noise was so loud that he could hardly hear his own thoughts.

Bilbo realised he wasn't the only one who'd stopped in his tracks when some other students behind them pushed to get inside. He turned to his companions, feeling a bit lost at the sight of the huge crowd.

Then he noticed Thorin standing in the doorway tensely, staring at a point in front of him, not looking like he was actually seeing anything.

Bilbo closed his mouth and watched him silently, not knowing what was going on. Dwalin was gripping his cousin's shoulders tightly as he talked insistently at him. Thorin shook his head slightly, his chest heaving visibly. He looked deeply distressed. Then Dwalin squeezed Thorin's arm and mumbled something into his ear that seemed to get to him. Thorin lowered his eyes and nodded. After a moment, he entered the room reluctantly.

Bilbo swallowed and followed hesitantly, not knowing what had just happened, but realising he wasn't supposed to be part of it. When Thorin looked up and caught his eyes, Bilbo's heart skipped a beat.

His intense gaze pierced into Bilbo's eyes and it was Bilbo who finally had to look away because he just couldn't bear it anymore. When he looked back up, Thorin had turned his back on him and walked to an empty spot away from Bilbo.

Well. That was as clear as it got.

Bilbo swallowed and turned to the opposite direction. He sat down close to the fire and hoped it would warm him a bit, though he knew that the cold he felt was coming from within.

 

Dwalin had been right. The students of Erebor really did know how to throw a party. It was honestly completely down to Bilbo that he didn't enjoy it at all.

He watched Dwalin, who'd joined the people on the dance floor, and sat in the same spot for half an hour with a drink in his hand he barely touched. A few people tried to chat him up, but he found himself incapable of holding any conversation. So much for polishing his image.

For the rest of the time, he pretended not to look for Thorin when his eyes wandered around the room.

He couldn't shake the memory of his gaze. He'd looked at him accusingly and with so much anger that Bilbo hadn't dared to even attempt to walk up to him, let alone talk to him after that.

It shouldn't hurt Bilbo so much. He shouldn't care. And he probably shouldn't have seen what he'd seen; which, really, wasn't much at all, but it had clearly made Thorin uncomfortable. He hadn't wanted Bilbo to know about whatever his problem was. He probably hadn't wanted him to notice that, under the layers of anger and aloofness, he'd looked deeply haunted.

Bilbo put his head in his hands, internally debating how soon he'd be able to leave and barricade himself in his bedroom. Just a moment later he saw Thorin exiting the common room.

Great. Now he couldn't go without it looking like he was following him.

Bilbo shivered. He hated to admit it. He really didn't know how it had happened. But Thorin had gotten under his skin, and he didn't know how to get him out again.

 


	4. Dark Matter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, everyone! I hope 2015 will be good to you. Thanks for making the end of 2014 great for me <3

In the end, Bilbo wouldn't have had to worry about leaving the party. When he got home about an hour later, Thorin was inside his room with the door closed. Bilbo slipped into the bathroom and then went straight to bed, not wanting to think about his rather bumpy start at Erebor. Or Thorin.

And yet, it was over an hour until he finally fell into a light sleep.

 

The next morning he emerged from his bedroom rather early, not being able to rest anymore. He found Thorin sitting at the table, scribbling into his book again. Some strands of his dark hair had fallen out of his ponytail and hid his face.

Bilbo cleared his throat and wished him a good morning. He got no reply. He sighed and went on with his morning routine. When he sat down opposite Thorin to eat, he tried to catch a glimpse of what the man was doing. He paid Bilbo no attention, completely lost in thought.

He was definitely drawing something. It looked like a complex pattern of something, but his hand covered most of the drawing. Bilbo told himself to stop prying and went back to his food again.

Before he was done Dwalin emerged from his room, looking properly dishevelled and spent. Bilbo imagined it'd been a long night. “Morning,” Dwalin grunted and went straight for the bathroom. He came out a little later, looking more awake and less ravished. He sat next to Bilbo and groaned.

“Do you want some water?” Bilbo offered sympathetically. He'd only ever been hungover once and he had no desire to experience that feeling again, thank you very much. Dwalin nodded and hummed thankfully. Bilbo brought him the largest glass they had and watched as Dwalin poured it down in hardly three draughts. He put the glass down and smiled at Bilbo appreciatingly.

“Thanks, lad.” Then he turned to look at his cousin.  “Thorin.” The other man grumbled something incomprehensible. Dwalin watched him with narrowed eyes. “Did you sleep at all?”

“No.”

Bilbo raised his eyebrows at that. Thorin hadn't slept all night? But- he'd been back even before Bilbo...

But since Dwalin neither seemed surprised nor said anything, he refrained from making a comment. What Thorin did in his free time wasn't any of his business, after all. Then Thorin looked up to glance at Dwalin, and his face told him enough.

He looked bad. Really bad. His blood-shot eyes were framed by circles as dark as his hair. He looked pale and tired and definitely not in the mood to have someone commenting on his state. So Bilbo shut his mouth and kept to himself.

He grabbed an apple from the kitchen before making his way to his room. While he walked up to it, he watched Dwalin getting up and lingering his hand reassuringly on Thorin's shoulder for a moment. Thorin seemed to lean into the touch, but otherwise didn't react. He kept scribbling into his journal almost frantically.

Bilbo shook his head and left the room.

 

And the next morning, the first week of the term started. And Bilbo barely had time to think about anything else anymore. He'd known a double major would be demanding, but this was truly  _horrible_. But he'd wanted this, he reminded himself. And he'd do it. He just had to get used to the strain.

Despite his failed good first impression at the party, he quickly found some nice people in his courses and soon didn't feel all that alone anymore. One guy from his English courses, his name was Ori, was even younger than Bilbo and just as lost as him. So naturally, they bonded and quickly became study partners, which was a big stress relief and gave Bilbo a bit time to breathe.

Still, Bilbo barely had time to ponder on Thorin and whatever it was that was up with him. Whenever the captivating man crossed his mind (which was a lot more often than he was willing to admit), he tried not to give in to the thoughts and go back to his work.

He'd wanted to talk to the man everytime they sat together in the living room, he really had, but his roommate was so intimidating (and handsome) that he just couldn't work up the courage to have a real conversation. They'd never gotten over a one-minute talk. Mostly Bilbo just talked to Dwalin, who was a funny and sympathetic comrade and certainly showed more interest in Bilbo than his stormy (handsome) cousin.

So Bilbo stayed in his lane. And pined. He groaned and put his head in his hands nearly every night. Why did he have to fall for his roommate so quickly and so- so thoroughly? His captivating, inacessible roommate, who was probably straight. And even if he wasn't, he was most certainly not interested in Bilbo. Things really always did have to be complicated with him.

It was about a week later that he realised just _how_ complicated they were.

 

It was a Monday night and Bilbo had fallen into bed completely exhausted quite early. He'd wished his roommates goodnight, gotten a reply from Dwalin and a nod from Thorin as usual, and went to sleep.

Which was why he was really disoriented when he woke during the night due to noises he couldn't identify.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to make out what had woken him. Then he realised what he was hearing. Someone was crying, almost hysterically. The sounds sent shivers down his spine. The walls were very thin, Bilbo was sure that the noises were coming from the room next to his – Thorin's.

Through beneath his door he saw a light being turned on. Then he heard Dwalin's voice, speaking frantically.

Bilbo jumped out of his bed and hurried into the next room.

At first he couldn't make out what was happening. Then he saw Dwalin kneeling on the bed, gripping Thorin's shoulders tightly, calling his name again and again. Bilbo couldn't see whether the man was awake or tossing and crying in his sleep.

“Dwalin?” he whispered, and when the man stiffened and turned to look at him, his eyes were so desperate that Bilbo shied at the sight.

“Bilbo. Go back to bed.” He turned away, shaking Thorin's shoulders and saying his name again.

“Can I do something?” Bilbo inquired anxiously.

Thorin exclaimed a loud cry, then became silent abruptly and soon started muttering something between hysterical sobs. Bilbo stepped closer. After a moment he could make out the words “I can't breathe”, over and over again.

Bilbo was terrified. He didn't know what to do, but he knew he had to do something. Following his intuition, he climbed on the bed and pulled the man, who was now clawing at his shirt, close.

“Take off his shirt,” he instructed. Dwalin looked at him questioningly. “It's too tight. He needs to breathe,” Bilbo explained impatiently.

“I don't think...” Dwalin began, but then he looked at his panic-ridden cousin and just did as he was told. “Can't hurt,” he mumbled and took Thorin's shirt off as blandly as he could, leaving him with only a vest.

Bilbo pulled Thorin's head into his lap and started running his hands through his hair, stroking his face softly, positioning him so he was secured but not caged. He kept caressing Thorin calmly, whispering soothing mantras of “You're fine” and “It's okay, you can breathe” until the man awoke. His hair was sticking to his head and he looked deeply haunted.

Bilbo stroked his face. “It's okay. You're awake," he mumbled.

Thorin didn't seem to recognise him. His eyes looked around wildly, searching without finding anything, too clouded with tears and the images in his head. When he realised that someone was caressing his cheek, he leaned into the touch. The contact seemed to somewhat soothe him. Bilbo pulled him closer and gasped when Thorin suddenly clung to him tightly, but then hurried to return the touch.

“Can you get me a towel?” Bilbo asked Dwalin without looking up. He thanked him when he handed him one, then started to wipe Thorin's face softly, not letting go of him. For a few minutes they both remained silent, listening to Thorin's breathing. It seemed to calm very slowly, but eventually it did.

 _He's breathing_ , Bilbo reassured himself. _He's breathing. He's fine._

“You can go back to bed now,” Bilbo said and blinked in Dwalin's direction. “He's calming down. He'll be okay soon.”

“Are you sure?” Dwalin asked, a doubtful expression on his face. He ran his hand over his face and added: “You don't have to do this, Bilbo. You've done enough as it is. Before you came... I couldn't get it under control, I didn't know how... I can take over now.”

“I'ts fine. I've got him,” Bilbo whispered and nodded towards the door. “Go. Get some sleep.” He smiled reassuringly at Dwalin, watching as he left. Then he looked back at Thorin, who was still panting and clinging to Bilbo for dear life, not seeming like he'd let go anytime soon. Bilbo wiped his forehead softly, trying not to scare him.

They sat in the dark for a long time. Bilbo couldn't tell how long it had been, but Thorin didn't seem to be able to go to sleep despite being utterly spent. He kept clawing at his throat, moving and breathing raggedly. So Bilbo kept talking to him quietly, reassuring him over and over that he was there, that he wouldn't let go.

He didn't know if it helped at all, but Thorin seemed to cling to his words, so he didn't stop. And so Bilbo sat and caressed Thorin's hair, mumbling soothing remarks until Thorin's utter exhaustion finally took over and he drifted into a light sleep. Bilbo ran his fingers softly through Thorin's curls for a bit longer, hoping that he'd stay asleep and get some rest.

Then he put Thorin's head from his lap onto the pillow with a heavy heart, watching him for a bit longer before turning to leave. He was fairly certain that Thorin wouldn't appreciate waking up to Bilbo in his bed. He'd clearly not been himself just now. He'd probably despise him enough as it was, for having seen him this vulnerable.

Bilbo returned to his now cold bed and tried to get some rest himself. It was long before sleep finally came to him.

 


	5. From The Ashes

Bilbo groaned when the alarm clock ripped him from his sleep. He felt like he hadn't rested at all. He sat up as the memories of last night filled his mind, properly realising what had went down.

Oh, god.

Thorin would hate him. For intruding on his privacy, or just because. Bilbo burried his head in his hands and tried to think of a way of avoiding the man, if possible forever.

Oh _god_. He'd have to switch rooms. Or universities, maybe.

He would probably yell at him on sight, then proceed to rip his head off. Or punish him with angry, silent looks from those piercing blue eyes. Bilbo didn't know which was worse. When he finally got up to go to the bathroom, he passed the calendar and realised with a start what day it was.

Bugger. It was a Tuesday, which meant he had his only class with Thorin now. Great.

 

Luckily, Bilbo always got up some time before Thorin, so he made it to the bathroom and then to the cafeteria without seeing him. He decided to have his breakfast there and then go straight to class. He realised he was being ridiculous and that avoiding Thorin wouldn't make their encounter in class any less horrible, but he didn't feel in any state of mind to face the man now. Or ever.

He sighed and pushed open the door to the classroom. And found it empty. Except for Thorin, who was sitting at his place and scribbling into his book.

He looked up at the sound of the door, then froze when he saw Bilbo. They both stared at the other for a moment before Bilbo awkwardly cleared his throat and cast his eyes to the ground.

Oh, for god's sake.

“Um. Morning,” he mumbled and stumbled to his seat. Perfect. Why was this happening? He rummaged around in his bag and fumbled for his books. The silence from the other man was disturbing. When he felt that he couldn't possibly stare at his things any longer, he risked a look over to Thorin.

He was watching him, a tense expression on his face that Bilbo couldn't quite interpret. He opened his mouth when Bilbo looked at him, but didn't say anything. A moment of silence passed and he closed it again, swallowing visibly.

Bilbo blinked helplessly, thinking that he almost looked like he was in pain. God, no. He hadn't wanted this. He thought of something to say, anything to make this situation any less painful.

“Where is everyone?” he squeaked out the moment Thorin opened his mouth again and said “Bilbo...”

They both shut up and looked at the other with big eyes. Then Thorin shook his head slightly and answered: “Don't know. The room was empty when I got here. I suppose class got cancelled.”

Bilbo nodded and managed to ask: “Did you check your mails?”

The taller man shook his head again and mumbled: “I never do in the mornings.”

“I didn't either today,” Bilbo said. “I... was distracted.”

Wow. Great. _That_ would certainly help making things less awkward.

“I'll just... check them now,” he said into the silence that followed his last statement. He fumbled for his phone and opened his inbox. “Right,” he said when he found the mail Professor Grey had sent late last night. He read it to Thorin.

“Oh. Right,” he commented. Then they both fell silent. Bilbo stared at the ground. This was just horrible. He had to get this out of the way now, for the sake of them both.

He took a deep breath and started: “Thorin, I-”

“I'm so sorry, Bilbo,” Thorin interrupted him. Bilbo blinked quietly at him, his mouth hanging open.

“I-” he began. “You-” He shook his head uncomprehendingly.

Thorin swallowed and Bilbo recognised that pained expression on his face again. He cast his eyes to the ground, forcing out some words. “I'm sorry about what happened last night. You shouldn't have had to see that.”

Bilbo gaped at the man. He didn't know what to say. _He_ was sorry? Thorin still didn't raise his eyes to meet his, and suddenly Bilbo realised that he was _embarrassed_. 

“Thorin...” he trailed off, lacking the right words. He swallowed and got up to bridge the distance between them, sitting down two seats next to Thorin's. “You're _sorry_?” he inquired. Thorin shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he straightened his shoulders and turned to face Bilbo.

“Look,” he started, but Bilbo didn't let him speak.

“No, Thorin. God, I had no idea. You don't have to be _sorry_ about what happened. If anything, _I_ am sorry. I know you didn't want me to see that happen. I just- I heard you crying out and tossing and I didn't think. I saw Dwalin and he couldn't help you and- Look, I'm really sorry for invading your privacy like that. I honestly didn't mean to, I just... I wanted to help somehow.” He trailed of, looking anywhere but at the man in front of him. His heart was racing. Why was he so upset? He swallowed repeatedly and then, when Thorin remained silent for way too long, finally brought himself to look at him.

Thorin stared at Bilbo with his mouth hanging open, searching his face, an expression of something that looked like awe on his features. “I-” He hesitated and frowned. Then he started again. “Do you want to go for tea?”

 

They got their beverages in Erebor's 24/7 opened café and chose a table at the window to sit down. The place was empty except for them and the exhausted looking waiter.

They sat in silence for a bit. Bilbo could hear Thorin's breathing opposite him. It was really soothing, somehow. He kept his silence and took a sip from his mug, knowing that Thorin would start in his own time. 

Eventually, the man cleared his throat. “I don't really know where to start,” he admitted and pressed his lips together, brooding.

Bilbo looked up, sending a shy smile in his direction. “It's fine," he assured. "Look, I can see that this is hard for you. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. It's... all fine.”

Thorin shook his head. “No, I want to tell you. Well, _want_ isn't quite right. I don't really want to talk about it, but I want you to know. I think you should,” he assured Bilbo and brushed a strand of hair behind his ear. “Alright. So.” He cleared his throat. “I grew up not far from here with my parents and my younger siblings, a brother and a sister. My father ran a huge business. He was very successful, we had a big house and a lot more than we needed. When I was 16-”

He stopped, breathing heavily. His hands grasped the mug tightly. Bilbo blinked helplessly. He knew Thorin had to do this, but he hated seeing him like this. Whatever had happened, it had obviously been very upsetting and he hated to cause Thorin any more pain. The man blinked a few times and swallowed heavily, then continued to talk.

“When I was 16, there was a fire. They said it was arson. Probably one of the businessmen my father had angered in his time, though they never caught them. We were all inside the house when it happened. I only woke because of my mother's screams.”

Thorin looked out of the window now. Bilbo could tell from his eyes that he was very far away.

“I ran into my sister's room. The fire had already spread there. I grabbed her and carried her out, she was 12 at the time. I followed my mother's instructions and left the house with her as soon as I could. When I was outside and my parents came running, we realised that my brother was missing.” He swallowed again and Bilbo saw his eyes watering. He didn't try to hide it, as he looked back at Bilbo instead and continued.

“Frerin was still inside. My father ran back to get him. I followed him despite my mother's cries not to. She was staying behind, taking care of my sister. Dis had been burned by the flames before I'd gotten to her. My father and I went in to get my brother, but it was too late. The fire had spread too fast, we couldn't reach his room. I tried to, I could hear him screaming... But I couldn't get to him. My father broke down completely when he realised that we couldn't save him. In the end I had to drag him out of the house, or he'd have burned to death right there. We were lucky we made it out alive.”

He stopped talking and they remained silent for a while. Bilbo felt something wet on his cheek and was surprised when he realised that he was crying too.

“After that, my father went mad with grief, quite literally. We had to institutionalise him. He died not long ago. He was never the same again. But the rest of us... we moved on, somehow. My mother left the city when Dis and I had moved out, she couldn't bear passing by our old house all the time. My sister's physical wounds healed and turned to scars, as did mine.”

When Bilbo looked at him in surprise, Thorin pointed at his back and explained: “I got burned too. It's just scar tissue now, it doesn't hurt anymore. But it's not small.” 

Bilbo nodded and Thorin continued. “We'd lost everything. My mother worked hard to keep us overwater, but she was on her own now. She didn't have the skills to take over the business. It went on to the next relative, my cousin Dain. He's taking care of everything until I'm ready to take over. We had no house, not enough money. So I dropped out of school after that year. Took every job I could get to secure my family's existence. I told myself I'd graduate later, that there was enough time. This was more important back then. And it was, but... I don't think I could have done it at the time, anyway. Graduating, I mean. I probably would've had to drop out anyway, to take some time off. It's not easy... finding your way back into real life after something like this.”

Bilbo nodded silently, not wanting to say the wrong thing. “I eventually did. More or less,” the taller man half-smiled.

Bilbo marveled at the gesture. The fact that this man, after everything, could still smile - could sit here and tell his story, and then manage a smile. Bilbo didn't think _he_ could do that; in fact he was certain he couldn't.

This man in front of him, Thorin, was a wonder. He wondered if he even realised what an accomplishment that was. How strong he was. How amazing.

“After my mother had found a properly paying job and we had enough to pay the rent of a small flat, I went back to school and graduated. Only some three or four years late.” Thorin exhaled audibly, then smiled. “And then I applied for Economics here at Erebor, like it's always been the plan. And I got accepted. That's how I landed here.”

He remained silent for a moment, then looked at Bilbo crookedly. “I actually wanted to thank you earlier, you know.”

Bilbo's raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Yes, really,” Thorin nodded and smiled softly. “What you did last night was... you didn't have to do it. You didn't have to do anything, but you did, so... thank you. I can't even begin to tell you how much you helped me. I'm sorry you had to see this, but I owe you nonetheless.”

“That is rubbish,” Bilbo said firmly, glad that his voice wasn't shaking. “I'm more than glad to have been of help, but you owe me nothing. This wasn't some act of social service. I did it because I saw that you could use some help and luckily, I was able to give it. There's nothing more. You're very welcome, but I won't have any of that nonsense.”

Thorin looked at him and then nodded once, his features a lot more relaxed again. They both watched each other for a moment, then Bilbo leaned back and asked with a smile: “So, that sister of yours. Dis, is it? What's she like?”

Thorin chuckled and began to describe her to Bilbo. He could tell that he loved her dearly, even as he told him about all the fights they'd had and stories of the usual sibling feuds between them.

The morning light shone on Thorin and put a glint into his eyes as he talked and watched Bilbo with his intense gaze all that time, not embarrased anymore, just open and sincere.

And Bilbo's chest hurt as he thought to himself that this didn't look like a victim to him at all. Before him was someone who'd risen from the ashes, who fought battles everyday and didn't stop when he lost one. Someone who was upright and brave and faced life like a king his duties.

“She sounds lovely,” Bilbo smiled. “I hope to meet her one day,” he added.

“I'm sure you will. You'll probably get along greatly,” the older man chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. They fell into comfortable silence as Bilbo drank the last sip of his cooled tea.

“Thorin,” he said and felt his heart stutter again as those beautiful blue eyes pierced into his. “I think you're incredibly strong. For doing this,” Bilbo said, and his chest hurt with the weight of all the things he wanted to say through that sentence, but couldn't out loud.

Thorin blinked at him, then looked down. The sunlight highlighted his eyelashes. His cheeks flushed and he smiled ever so softly. And Bilbo knew in his heart that he was gone. Completely, utterly, hopelessly lost. Absolutely and definitely in love with Thorin.

 


	6. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Bilbo competes with a pine tree, and wins.

A week later, Bilbo, Thorin and Dwalin sat in the cafeteria for dinner. Dwalin was telling stories from his time in high school - from the sound of it, he seemed to have been quite a handful. Bilbo threw his head back and laughed at the image of a young Dwalin climbing out of his window at night, returning some hours later in a police car with nothing but his boxers on, all in front of his burgeois neighbours.

Then he caught Thorin's eyes on him and blushed, hastily looking down on his plate.

Thorin looked at him differently now. Since their talk after that night, he'd loosened up around Bilbo. They'd started to talk a lot more, even spent their free time together. The looks Thorin gave Bilbo now were fond, even appreciative. Bilbo didn't want to admit it to himself, but in a way, that meant the world to him.

He was looking back up now, having his heartbeat under control again. And promptly found his eyes being caught by Dwalin's, who smirked at him downright maliciously amused.

Bilbo _had_ wondered if Dwalin had noticed he had a crush as big as a bloody mountain on Thorin. If his horribly smug expression was anything to go by, he probably had.

Bilbo closed his eyes briefly, sighing inaudibly. It was bad enough that he'd fallen for the wonderful, captivating, _handsome_ man he could now call his friend. He didn't need anyone knowing about it. Especially not someone as smug about it as his other roommate, thank you very much.

Well. At least one of them was having a blast with this situation. He could still feel Dwalin's smirk directed at him. Thankfully at least Thorin didn't seem to notice, as he'd gone back to eating his food, directing fond peeks at Bilbo every once in a while, each of them making Bilbo's stomach prickle in excitement.

He was too far gone. Over the moon, one might say. To the stars with a one-way ticket, no going back... _Stop the silly metaphors_ , he chastised himself. _This is embarrassing enough as it is._

So he went back to listening to Dwalin's stories, all the while being just too aware of Thorin's eyes on him.

 

And that was merely the beginning of Bilbo's epic pining for Thorin.

He pined hard. He pined when he watched Thorin in class, when they ate, when he watched him study. He pined when Thorin spoke to him. He pined when Thorin spoke to someone else.

He pined especially hard when Thorin got out of the bathroom after taking a shower, his hair still wet, wearing nothing but boxers. Yes. So hard.

He pined in his room at night, wishing he was lying in bed one door farther to the left. He felt guilty for sometimes remembering the feeling of Thorin's skin _that_ night, the warmth of his body, the tightness of his grip on the smaller man. He really did. But he couldn't help himself. He just blushed and prayed that Thorin couldn't see it in his face when he looked at him.

Which he did a lot, actually.

It made Bilbo feel _really_ funny.

 

Some days after, they were sitting in the library together. Bilbo was occupied with polishing one of his essays.

Thorin sat opposite him. He'd worked on an assignment, but seemed to be finished now, as he'd gotten out his book - the one he kept scribbling into - and started working on something. That caught Bilbo's attention.

He eyed the book, then Thorin. The man seemed completely lost in thought, paying his surroundings no mind. Bilbo cleared his throat. When that evoked no reaction, he did it again and eventually called his name.

Thorin looked up and Bilbo watched with a hidden smile as he found back into reality. “Yes?” he inquired, blinking repeatedly.

“I've wanted to ask for ages – what are you always scribbling into that book?” Bilbo asked and nodded towards the journal.

“What? This?” Thorin raised his eyebrows and pointed at the open page. “You could have just asked,” he chuckled and handed Bilbo the book. Bilbo took it eagerly and looked at the drawing presented to him. His eyes widened at the sight.

“Wow,” he breathed out, staring at Thorin, then back at the journal. “You did this?”

Thorin nodded courtly and Bilbo flipped to the first page of the thick book. Every page was filled with sketches of detailed designs, buildings, sometimes objects and even people. Bilbo admired the attention to detail. At the edges he found hastily scribbled notes every now and then, which he couldn't decipher for the life of him.

“Thorin, this is wonderful,” he said sincerely and looked up at the man. Thorin smiled and lowered his eyes modestly. “How long have you been doing these?” Bilbo asked and turned another page.

“Some years, actually," he shrugged. "I started sketching in my teens. I actually thought about studying Architecture, you know, before the fire. But then... things changed. I was faced with taking over the family business much sooner than expected, and my brother- well, it was always Frerin who'd been most interested in the business. I thought he was going to take over and I- I would have worked freelance for a few years and then joined him. But everything was different after the fire.”

He frowned and was silent for a moment. “It's not that I don't want to do it, you know?” he continued and looked at Bilbo, deep in thought. “Take over the business. I do, especially now that my father's gone and- I really want to continue what was his life's work. And I'm also doing this for Dis. I want her to have the life she wants, and not feel responsible to take over our father's legacy.”

Bilbo saw the sincerity in his features as he spoke those words. His heart swelled with affection at the thought of how fond Thorin was of his sister. The older man brushed the strands that had fallen out of his ponytail from his face. “And I do enjoy studying Economics. It's just sad that I won't get to fulfill this dream now.” He smiled wearily. “I couldn't do a double degree like you. I had to work very hard to be where I am now, I couldn't manage another field of study. Everything I worked for would collapse. I couldn't balance it. So I have to cut back.” His eyes lingered on the journal Bilbo was still flipping through. “But it's a good hobby, nonetheless. Takes my mind off things.”

Bilbo nodded sympathetically. “These are truly wonderful, Thorin,” he finally said and gave back the journal reluctantly. “You would have made a great architect.”

Thorin's eyes pierced into his and his pulse increased at the warmth and fondness in them.

He'd get a heart attack, one of these days.

 

They'd gotten into the habit of doing their work in the living room next to each other. Thorin said that he enjoyed the company, it helped him think. To Bilbo, his presence was really soothing, if somewhat distracting. He really liked to listen to Thorin breathing. The steady sound calmed him.

One afternoon they shared the sofa again, each one occupied with their assignments. Bilbo had his legs on the couch and typed something on his laptop, completely lost in his essay. He squeaked when Thorin suddenly moved and pulled his feet onto his lap.

Thorin looked up at the sound and laughed at his staggered expression. Then he drew his attention back to his books and, shortly after, started rubbing his ankles distractedly. Bilbo was certain he was going to faint.

He'd noticed that since their talk, Thorin had become a lot more affectionate. It wasn't too much and never out of place, but he seemed to seek out the contact and enjoy it when it was there.

It did a dangerous thing to him. It made Bilbo imagine what he'd be like in a relationship.

He shut his eyes and regretted ever going there. He hated how his heart felt like it was clenching in his chest. He suddenly found it harder to breathe and hid his face behind the laptop screen, hoping that Thorin was too occupied with his studies to notice.

God, he really was so pathetic. But how could he _not_ have fallen for his roommate? He was mesmerising. Bilbo peeped at the other man from behind his laptop. Thorin had his hair in a loose ponytail again, and god, it did things to Bilbo. He hadn't even known that he was into long hair. But maybe he was just into Thorin and everything about him.

He watched as Thorin turned a page and bit his lip in concentration, all along rubbing Bilbo's ankles. Bilbo swallowed heavily, eyes glued to his face. Those lips... if he could just feel the texture of those lips on his once, he could die a happy man.

Okay, well. He was aware that probably wasn't true; if he'd get the privilige once he'd fight everyone and everything that would try to deny it to him in the future. But the desire remained... He snapped out of the moment when he realised he'd started to lean towards Thorin unconsciously.

Bugger. He couldn't do this. He couldn't.

He could never make a move, not when it meant he'd lose Thorin's friendship almost certainly. And it did, didn't it? The man had never indicated any attraction to someone of any gender, but honestly, who was he trying to fool? Thorin was probably straight. And either way, he wasn't interested in Bilbo like that, he could tell.

He'd rather live the rest of his life, or as long as Thorin would have him, as his friend, than destroy what they'd only just gotten by acting on his silly feelings.

He cringed at how pathetic he sounded, even to himself. But he couldn't help it. He blinked as he felt his eyes getting wet. Oh, _god_. What was wrong with him? He hastily tried to distract himself from his thoughts.  _Enough brooding_ , he chastised himself. _You should enjoy being with him at all, in any way._

Lost in his own thoughts, he almost jumped when Thorin raised his voice. “Dis called earlier,” he mentioned as he noted something down into his book. “She told me to say hi to you.” He looked up and smiled at Bilbo.

“Oh, did she?” Bilbo asked flustered. “That's very nice of her.” He briefly wondered what Thorin had told her about him. Then Thorin rubbed his ankles again, and his thoughts went into a whole other direction.

God. Help. Him.

 


	7. It's A Family Thing

Saturday morning, Bilbo was cleaning his room when there was a knock on the door. Dwalin was still asleep, so Thorin got up to answer it. Bilbo peeked out of his room to see who it was; they weren't expecting anyone.

A dark-haired woman was revealed when Thorin opened the door. She grinned broadly when she saw him, opening her arms. Thorin froze and stared at the woman in silence for a second. Then he let out a surprised cry and hurled her into his arms, spinning her around. The woman squeaked and clung to him tightly.

“So good to see you!” she exclaimed and laughed. Thorin laughed too, the rich sound sending shivers down Bilbo's spine. Then he put her down, refusing to properly let go of her.

“And you!” he said, the smile audible in his voice. “What the hell are you doing here?” he then demanded to know. His eyes glistened as he took her face in.

“I wanted to see you, stupid,” she grinned.

Thorin finally let go of her when he stepped back and looked at her properly. “My, you look good. I haven't seen you in forever. Come on in!”

“I know, I know,” she chuckled, “but I'm here now.”

Bilbo had watched the scene silently from his room, staring at the guest with big eyes. Then the woman noticed him. “Ohh,” she lit up, “you must be Bilbo!”

Bilbo blinked at her in surprise, then dropped his duster hastily and stepped into the living room. “I am,” he confirmed and looked at her with sparked interest. He got the chance to properly take in the woman's face now. “And you are... Dis?” he guessed. The resemblance with Thorin was distinctive. She nodded, smiling. Bilbo held out his hand and hurried to say: “It's such a pleasure to meet you at last, I've heard so much about you!”

She laughed and the sparkle in her eyes – the same colour Bilbo almost drowned in so often these days – was the same he'd seen in Thorin's before. Instead of taking his hand she pulled him into her arms frankly. Bilbo gasped in surprise, then hurried to hug her back. She had a grip as strong as she looked and clearly wasn't afraid of touch. She let go of him and took a look from his head to toes.

“I do hope only good things,” she winked. She had the same smirk on her face as Thorin behind her, both knowing exactly that wasn't the case. “But I've heard lots about you as well, Bilbo.” She tilted her head and looked at him more seriously now. Bilbo flushed and smiled shyly.

“Come on, then,” Thorin said from behind his sister and closed the door. “Put down your things and I'll give you a tour.”

Dis seemed appropriately impressed with their flat. Bilbo hurried to finish cleaning his room, then joined the two siblings in the living room; first hesitantly, then with a smile as Dis waved him to the sofa.

“Tea?” he offered and already got up to boil the water. As he carried the mugs on a tablet to the living room, he put down the sugar bowl next to Thorin automatically. The man drank his tea almost painfully sweet. Bilbo actually thought it was kind of cute.

He sat in silence for a while and listened to Dis and Thorin chattering away. “How did you manage to come visit today?” Thorin wanted to know.

“Oh, you know. Postponed my project a little so I could go on a trip. That was badly needed, I can tell you.” She sat back and rolled her eyes. “College can be so stressful, I'm so glad it's my last year. And I really missed you,” she added and grinned at Thorin. He returned the smile, looking at her fondly. “Plus, I wanted to see my dear cousin. I do _so_ miss him and his mischief! Speaking of, where is he?”

Thorin nodded towards the closed door and she laughed. “Oh, the same old sleepy head then. I'm gonna wake him up in a bit, and he's gonna be _so_ happy about it!” She grinned and then leaned over to Thorin, who very much looked like he doubted that, to playfully punch his shoulder.

The movement made her loose braid slip aside and revealed the side of her face, showing thick scar tissue following the outline of her face, from her cheekbone down to her neck. Bilbo blinked at the sight. He remembered that Thorin had said she'd been burned by the fire before he'd gotten to her, but seeing it was something else.

His eyes automatically wandered down her body. He caught another glimpse of burnt skin at her throat and then some on her arm, where her sleeve ended.

Bilbo took the sight of her scarred skin in and wondered why the feeling of shock didn't settle in his chest as he'd expected it to. But the moment passed and he realised that there was no reason for it, since the scars didn't disfigure her - at all. They didn't derogate her beauty. Quite the contrary, actually. Maybe it was the fact that she wore her marks so unashamedly, so proudly. She carried herself, carried _them_ with an air of grace and yes, even pride. Like a queen her battle scars.

The sound of a door opening shook him out of his thoughts. He looked up as Dwalin emerged in a loose shirt and pajama pants, obviously just woken up. He grunted something that sounded vaguely like “good morning” and went for the bathroom without giving them as much as a glance. Only when he came out and properly looked around, he stopped in his tracks and exclaimed a loud cry. “Well, look what the cat dragged in! It's my lousy cousin Dis!”

He laughed and the sound rumbled in his throat. Dis had jumped up from the sofa and shouted: “Come at me, Mister Dwalin!”

He picked her up and she was whirled around for the second time since arriving, throwing her head back in laughter. Must be a family thing. Bilbo absolutely did not think about what it would be like to be spun around like that by Thorin. No. Instead, he got up and prepared another cup of tea.

Dwalin joined them and soon the conversation was just Dis and him sharing old stories, having laughs on Thorin's account, said man grumbling in his corner of the sofa but privily smiling about the situation, and Bilbo watching the scene in front of him in awe.

“Do you remember,” Dis snorted, “when he started growing his hair out and I-” She stopped, laughing too hard at the memory to continue. “And I sneaked into his room at night and put my old hair clips in it? And he didn't- he didn't notice all the way through family breakfast, until Balin had the heart to tell him. His face was priceless!”

Thorin looked faintly embarrassed as Dwalin and Bilbo joined in on Dis' laughter. Bilbo couldn't help but keep grinning at the image. He glanced at Thorin,silently marvelling at how relaxed he was right now.

“Or when he brought home his first boyfriend and said he was the one for him!”

Bilbo froze and stared at Dis, just about preventing his mouth from hanging open. He blinked repeatedly. Had she just-? _Oh, god_. His head was spinning. Thorin groaned opposite him and put his head in his hands. “He was _not_ my boyfriend and I said no such thing!” he grumbled.

“I know that he wasn't!” Dis exclaimed, ignoring the second part of his statement. “But you _didn't_ at the time! You were so convinced that it was forever.” Her eyes met Bilbo's and she winked at him. For a second he thought there was something else in her gaze, but then dismissed it and hurried to grin at the anecdote.

Dis' eyes lingered on him for another moment, then she turned to Thorin and mused: “You never really did date any guys after that. Maybe he _was_ the one.”

Thorin threw a pillow at her head. “Stop being so annoying!" he groaned. "I just never felt comfortable enough around anyone after that and what happened.”

She raised her chin and eyed him silently, then started to smirk in an unsettling way. “Anyway,” she said after a moment and, surprisingly enough, changed the topic. “What can we get for dinner around here? I'm hungry!”

Dwalin suggested getting Chinese takeaway and hopped up to fetch some when everyone approved. Bilbo and the two siblings were left on the sofa.

Bilbo started to inquire what Dis was doing at college and what plans she had for afterwards, and she started to question him in turn about his double degree and how on earth he'd come to the decision to do “something as bloody mad as _that._ ”

Bilbo threw a look at Thorin every once in a while. He watched them both with a faint smile on his face and looked completely relaxed. Bilbo smiled at the sight and scolded his heart for starting to beat faster.

“I recently found out about Thorin's secret talent,” he changed the subject and grinned at the man opposite him. Thorin flushed faintly. Bilbo's heart jumped. “His drawings are incredible.”

“Oh, they are,” Dis agreed. “He let you see them already?” she then asked in surprise. “I had to ask so many times before he finally let me have a look. I always begged him to draw me something for my birthday. Could have saved him a lot of money,” she chuckled, but she looked at Thorin in a thoughtful way that didn't quite fit her light tone.

“Oh, really? I just asked and he showed me his sketchbook.” Bilbo raised his eyebrows and glanced at Thorin, who was conveniently looking at his hands. Very pretty hands they were, mind you. So strong and yet, beautiful and soft and so tender in what they did. Bilbo wondered if they'd feel soft if he intertwined his fingers with Thorin's. If the other man would-

Bilbo _seriously_ had to get a grip. When he looked back up, Dis was watching him with a maliciously amused smirk that told him she knew _exactly_ what he'd been thinking. He thought he'd seen that expression somewhere before.

When Thorin slipped into the bathroom a bit later and Bilbo was left alone with Dis, she turned to him and regarded him intently. “Bilbo,” she said and cocked her head. _Oh no_ , Bilbo thought. _Here it comes_. “I don't know how you did it, but I wanted to thank you.”

She- what? That was- rather unexpected.

“Thank me?" he echoed. "For what?” He blinked at her in surprise.

“For getting through to him. He's so open around you, so relaxed... you haven't seen him before, you don't know what he was like. You know, we weren't joking when we said earlier that he didn't let anyone near. He's never been so comfortable around anyone who wasn't family or an old friend. I just...” She trailed off, then looked at him again and her lips curled into a smile. “I don't know what you did for him to grace you with his friendship, but he chose you and... that means something.”

Bilbo closed his eyes briefly as he felt himself blushing vigorously. Dis looked at him softly. “He's very fond of you, you know.” She grabbed her mug. “And I think you are too,” she winked and took a sip of tea.

Bilbo froze and opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Thorin's return saved him from having to stutter a no doubt embarrassing answer. They changed the subject, but Bilbo could feel Dis' piercing eyes on him all evening. He tried very hard to regulate his heartbeat, but failed miserably. All the time one thought was hammering in his head.

Thorin wasn't straight. Thorin was attracted to men. Bilbo felt like his head was burning and he hoped to god it wasn't showing.

And Dis had said that he liked him. She should know, shouldn't she? Bilbo doubted that there was someone who knew Thorin better than his sister. And yet... it didn't change anything, did it? He'd never shown any interest in Bilbo. Not _that_ way. Yes, okay, he had let down his guards and opened up to him, but that was it. Thorin didn't see him that way.

Somehow, Bilbo felt worse than before. The knowledge that there _could_ be something between them but wasn't, despite what Dis said, stung horribly. He bit his lip and tried to get himself under control.

But then he looked into Thorin's eyes and... a spark of doubt flashed in him, because there _was_ something. He couldn't put his finger on it, but when these piercing blue eyes found his, he saw something in them. Maybe it was nothing... maybe Thorin just looked fondly at him because he enjoyed his friendship. Maybe it was his own pathetic pining reflected back at him.

Bilbo repressed a sigh and shook his head. Enough with these thoughts. Dis had gotten under his skin with her words, but Thorin hadn't shown interest in Bilbo that way, so he _wasn't interested_. Time to accept that.

And yet. He couldn't escape the memory of his gaze, lingering on him intently all day.

Bugger.

 

It was very late when Dis eventually had to leave to catch the last train. She embraced Dwalin fiercely before hugging Bilbo goodbye. He leaned into the touch, her embrace so comfortable he found it hard to believe that he'd only met her today. “Take care of him,” she mumbled into his ear and winked at him before kissing his cheek and turning away.

She and Thorin hugged tightly and Bilbo saw how reluctantly Thorin parted from his sister. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and made her promise to text him when she got home. She nodded and waved them all goodbye, and then she was gone.

Bilbo was left with too many impressions that made him feel all dizzy and slightly anxious. He sighed.

This family just had a way of turning him upside down.

 


	8. 'Tis The Season (To Be On The Ropes)

Dis' visit had been a wonderful break from everday life for Thorin and Bilbo, one they'd taken gratefully and enjoyed immensely. But with her departure they were thrown back into reality, which now demanded all their attention. It was going towards the last days of the year and both of them had to do assignments and write exams before the end of term just some days before Christmas Eve.

Bilbo assumed that it was the strain of revising and having to perform well on the exams that eventually caused Thorin to have more episodes again. They didn't just hit him when he was sleeping, Bilbo learned quickly.

One day he came home from his English lecture and found Thorin on the kitchen floor with his head in his hands, his whole body shaking with sobs. He froze in the doorway.

“Oh, god,” he muttered before dropping his bag and hurrying to Thorin's side. “Thorin,” he mumbled, “hey, Thorin. I'm here.”

He sank to his knees and rubbed the other man's arm gently. Thorin's knees were pulled to his chest and he sat so unmovingly that Bilbo thought he wouldn't react, that he couldn't get through to him; but then a sob jarred his body again and he leaned into Bilbo's touch, almost defeatedly. That was enough agreement for Bilbo. He pulled the man to his chest, allowing him to cling to him tightly, caressing his hair.

“It's okay, I'm here,” he said calmly, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

The hard ground they were sitting on made the situation even more uncomfortable than it already was, but he couldn't care less about it that moment.

“Do you need something?” he asked carefully when the tremor of his body slowly ebbed. Thorin didn't reply, still hiding his face from Bilbo. “It's okay. I know you're upset. I'm here to help you.” He kept rubbing his back, holding him close, wondering if he could do something else the entire time. Eventually the man stilled in his arms and retreated, running his hand over his face wearily, hiding his features.

Bilbo knew that Thorin needed this moment for himself, but he felt a sting nonetheless.

Thorin took a deep, shaky breath. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled and Bilbo heard the shame in his voice. He caught his wrist as Thorin attempted to get up and leave.

“No,” he said firmly. Thorin looked at him wearily and Bilbo wanted to catch his lips between his so badly; run his fingers through his hair until he stopped looking so distraught, kiss away the tears that still decked his eyelashes.

“Don't apologise,” he said. “You have nothing to be sorry for, alright?” He squeezed his wrist before letting go slowly, the feeling of his skin lingering on his as if it had burned him. Thorin looked down, managing a small smile. Bilbo knew it wasn't genuine, but he didn't know what to do to fix it.

 

A few nights later, Bilbo woke from his light sleep because he sensed someone in his room. He opened his eyes, jumping when he saw Thorin lingering at the door.

“Jesus, Thorin,” he breathed out, glancing at his alarm clock. It was past 1am. “You scared me.” He blinked at Thorin and, when taking the man's face in properly, asked: “What's wrong?”

“I...” Thorin seemed to struggle with himself, as no words came out of his mouth. Bilbo sat up and watched him in silence. Thorin was wearing pyjama pants and a shirt that suggested he was ready for bed. He fiddled at the cloth, looking nervous and tired and somewhat anxious.

 _Oh_ , Bilbo thought as the realisation hit him.

“Are you having another episode?” he enquired. Thorin's gaze flickered to him and Bilbo saw the panic in his eyes, building up to spill over. He nodded shortly and Bilbo, for the lack of a better plan, patted the free space next to him on the bed.  “Sit,” he offered. Thorin hesitated, then closed the door behind him and lowered himself on the bed. “Has something happened?” Bilbo asked. “Did something... trigger a flashback or anything?”

Thorin looked exhausted. Bilbo really hated making him talk about it, but he needed something to go on.

“I don't know,” Thorin breathed out, his brows furrowed. “I was going to sleep but then I kept thinking about what I have to revise for my exam and I couldn't drift off, and then all these things came into my head and somehow lying there was too much and I had to get up, so I- you said I should come to you when I felt something coming on.”

He looked so insecure and vulnerable that moment that Bilbo's heart contracted. He moved to sit opposite the man and looked him in the eye, his inner conflict playing out so evidently on his face.

“You acted wisely coming here,” he said firmly. “I'm glad you did. Now we can take this on together, see how we can manage. It'll be fine,” he reassured him.

Thorin nodded, breathing heavily, but calmly for now. "Okay.”

“Right. Do you need anything?” Bilbo asked. “A bit of water? I can fetch you some.” He attempted to leave the bed, but was held back by Thorin's hand on his arm. He turned to look at him. His face was twisted in distress and he opened his mouth long before he seemed to be able to get the words out.

“Don't go,” he whispered pleadingly, still gripping Bilbo's arm. “Please. Don't- Stay.”

Bilbo stilled and then leaned back again. “Okay.” He sat close to Thorin, covering the grip on his skin with his own hand and patting it reassuringly. “I won't go, I promise. I'm here. You don't have to do this alone.”

Thorin closed his eyes and tried to keep a steady rhythm, his chest heaving more strongly now. His grip on Bilbo's arm tightened before he let go abruptly, realising what he was doing. Bilbo watched anxiously as his breath quickened, came out more raggedly.

“Thorin,” he spoke his name gently, softly into the dark. The sound seemed to catch his attention, give him something to focus on. “Do you want to draw something, maybe?” he offered, following his guts. Thorin looked at him with big eyes, then his gaze darted around the room. “It's okay, I've got some paper right here,” Bilbo added quickly and pointed to his bedside cabinet.

Thorin nodded tentatively, breathing out an almost inaudible “yeah” eventually, and Bilbo stretched to reach the pencil and paper.

“There you go,” he said and handed it to the man, who took it with unsteady hands. “I don't have any pencils that are worth a damn, but I suppose this one will do,” Bilbo remarked, huffing out a nervous laugh. He bit his lip as the man nodded, brushing loose strands of his hair away from his face.

“Tell me something. Something about you,” he asked in a hushed voice.

“What do you want to hear?” Bilbo asked back and raised his eyebrows, looking down at his hands. “I'm pretty boring.”

“Bilbo,” Thorin said and the rawness of his voice made him glance up. “You're anything but boring. I want to know more about you. Tell me something,” he asked again and the intensity in his eyes sent shivers down Bilbo's spine, making his stomach tingle in a _very_ funny way.

“...okay,” he breathed out, searching his thoughts for something interesting to say. “Um. I... I grew up rather far from here," he started. "I was a bit of a surprise baby. My parents had tried for a child really long and didn't actually expect it to work anymore. They didn't have any more after me, either. But I have a lot of cousins who all live in the country side..."

He talked about his life and random memories that just popped into his mind, keeping Thorin occupied with his stories, lighting up when he was able to draw even the shortest laugh from the man who kept switching between watching him and the sheet of paper beneath his hands.

Bilbo finally had the chance to properly watch him draw; the focus and passion with which he guided the pencil over the surface was almost hypnotising. His own words ebbed over time as he wasn't able to think of any more stories to tell, but Thorin seemed quite content with the information he'd gotten. They kept silent, the scratch of the pencil being the only sound save for their synchronous breathing.

“I haven't been able to sketch a lot lately,” Thorin said into the silence after a while. Bilbo looked up from the drawing, waiting for him to say more. “I just can't find the time,” he continued, not looking up as he added small lines to his drawings here and there. “Drawing usually keeps me calm, takes my mind off things.” He chuckled softly and the sound was gone so quickly that Bilbo almost believed he imagined it. “I suppose it's no wonder I'm a bit on the ropes these days.”

He finished the drawing and leaned back with a deep breath, looking down on the paper. Then he let the sheet and the underlay drop to the floor carelessly, running his hand over his face. "Thank you," he said quietly, exhaling audibly. "I think I might be able to sleep a bit now. I'll go and stop keeping you up." He flashed a weary smile at Bilbo and the smaller man bit his lip as he imagined him going to his room now, lying awake until dawn, or actually falling asleep and waking from a nightmare on his own.

"Do you want to sleep here tonight?" he asked without much ado. Thorin looked at him in surprise and raised his eyebrows, then shook his head. "I really can't keep you-"

"You're not keeping me from anything," Bilbo cut him off and added, "if it's fine by you you're welcome to stay here. These beds are huge, there's enough space for the two of us anyway. And I promise I won't hog the blanket."

Thorin smiled at the half-hearted joke and then sighed, looking thoughtful. "If it's really alright with you..." he began. Bilbo's expression silenced him well enough and they slipped under the duvet, shuffling around until they were comfortable.

Bilbo smiled. "There, it's all good," he said. "Now try to sleep a bit. I'm right there if something's happening." Remembering his fear from earlier, he added softly: “I won't leave you. I won't go.”

Thorin nodded curtly and closed his eyes, Bilbo watching his features for some time before doing the same. He didn't actually think he'd be able to sleep _with_   _the man of his dreams in his bloody bed_ , but his exhaustion took over quickly and he dozed off within minutes.

He woke up when he felt the man next to him tossing an hour later, apparently still asleep, his features twisted with a pain so raw Bilbo couldn't imagine feeling it.

"Thorin," he mumbled and kneeled to grip his shoulders, shaking him softly. "Thorin, wake up. You're having a dream. Thorin!"

The man threw his eyes open and gasped for air, blinking unorientedly in the dark. "Shh," Bilbo mumbled, touching his face softly, caressing his hair. "I'm here. You're in my room, you're safe. Nothing's going on. You just had a bad dream, that's all."

He kept soothing him until he appeared to calm down, seeming to be back in reality rather than the twisted images of the nightmare that, no doubt, still clouded his mind.

Thorin sat up eventually, staring at a point somewhere on the bed until his breath calmed. Then his shoulders caved in and his features twisted with silent defeat before he could avert his eyes, covering his face in an almost tortured motion.

It broke Bilbo's heart.

"Thorin," he said suppliantly and the man seemed to shrink at the sound, too caught up in the moment to hear the despair in his voice, the urgency. And Bilbo shook his head in pain as he started to plead, seeking the other man's touch because he couldn't do this anymore, he couldn't bear Thorin hiding from him, being so close and yet so far, “please, Thorin, don't hide from me. Please.”

A long moment of silence passed, then his breath caught as Thorin looked up at him, his eyes wet, but open and sincere. The rawness in them seemed to claw at Bilbo, rip him open, and he thought that he'd sit here gladly and watch it tear him apart as long as that meant he'd been trusted by this man, trusted enough to see his most intimate emotions...

He'd leaned closer to Thorin without thinking, still kneeling on the bed. He was raising his shaking hands now, cupping his face gently; and when his gaze met his, for one moment, a split second, he thought it was going to happen. Something. Anything. Their eyes locked and the air between them seemed to buzz, and Bilbo was _so_ close to kissing him, so close...

And then a shaky breath escaped Thorin's lips and the spell was broken, both of them rendered speechless for another moment before Bilbo slowly took his hands from his face and they eventually lay down again, knowing all too well that neither would be able to sleep now, but pretending to for the sake of the other.

 


	9. Dale Christmas Market

“Right, that's it,” Bilbo announced and snapped his book shut. Thorin looked up from the sofa where he was sitting with his own books and notes, blinking questioningly. Bilbo cringed at the sight of his blood-shot eyes.

“We're going out tonight,” he said, provokingly holding Thorin's gaze as he raised his eyebrows.

“Bilbo,” Thorin enquired and cocked his head. “Have _you_ lost your mind now?”

Bilbo rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “I'm serious. Look at you, you're like- like a bloody zombie. If you can learn even one more page by heart it's a Christmas miracle.”

Thorin looked mildly offended, then blinked at the mention of Christmas like he'd forgotten what time of the year it was. Which he probably had. That gave Bilbo an idea.

“I know! We're going to the Dale Christmas market. Someone from my linguistics courses told me about it, I think it was Ori. He said it's beautiful! We're gonna go there.” He narrowed his eyes. “And you're gonna enjoy it. And you're not gonna think about any exams, papers or anything related to Economics in any way at all. Are we clear?”

“But my last exam is in three days. I can't possibly-”

“You can,” Bilbo interrupted. “And you will. You haven't slept properly in bloody days, Thorin. You've had more episodes in the last few weeks than the whole term combined. I _know_ you're not well, and I'm not gonna be responsible for your... irresponsibility!”

Bilbo sat closer to Thorin and tried to ignore the fact that he could _smell_ him. God, he smelled so lovely. Like freshness and warmth and comfort, a bit like home and... Thorin. He tried to ignore his increasing heartbeat as well and insisted: “You will do just fine on the exam, trust me. You've worked so hard. Now you deserve a break. It'll be good for you.”

“But-”

“No “but”,” Bilbo snapped and snatched the book from Thorin's hands. “We're going. I will carry you if I must.”

Thorin seemed amused by that thought, but ultimately realised that he was beaten and put his notes aside with a sigh. “Fine,” he groaned. “Let's go to your Christmas market.”

Bilbo smiled smugly and jumped up from the sofa. “Get your coat!” he called over his shoulder, going to get his stuff.

 

Dale wasn't far from Erebor university. They walked the short distance in comfortable silence. Bilbo turned to look at Thorin inconspicuously from time to time. The older man looked straight ahead, but there was a softness in his features that Bilbo had been missing dearly during the last few weeks. He'd seen it way too rarely, anyway.

He noticed that Thorin's cheeks were flushed from the cold. Bilbo wanted to kiss them warm again. He blushed at the thought, almost stumbling over his own feet.  
He tore his eyes off Thorin's face as he tried to regulate his heartbeat. Tried to ignore how close they were walking. How easily he could slip his hand into Thorin's... to prevent himself from doing anything embarrassing, he put his hands safely away in his pockets.

“Oh look, we're almost there!” he exclaimed and nodded towards a gathering of lights and people. Christmas songs were playing in the distance and he could already smell the mulled wine and sweets. It reminded him of his childhood instantly. Bilbo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A smile spread on his face.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw Thorin watching him intensely. Bilbo opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Thorin kept looking at him and they just stared at each other for a moment. Bilbo's heart stuttered in his chest. He licked his lips nervously. 

“What is it?” he finally breathed out. Thorin blinked as though he hadn't quite realised what had happened, then he smiled softly.

“You seem happy,” he said. Then he turned away and nodded towards the crowd. “Shall we go?”

He didn't wait for an answer, marching ahead. Bilbo raised his eyebrows in bewilderment, blinking a few times. Then he smiled and hurried to catch up with his companion.

“Do you want some mulled wine? I definitely want some. Maybe we should eat something first. Are you hungry? I'm so hungry,” Bilbo chattered away, dragging Thorin through the rows without waiting for an answer. “How about this?” he asked, stopping at a booth and turning to look at him.

Thorin shrugged without taking his eyes off Bilbo. “I eat everything,” he said.

“Okay. Wait right here so you can grab one of these tables when someone leaves. I'll be right back!”

When returned a few minutes later, he held two dishes in his hand. “So,” he breathed and put them down in front of Thorin. “That one's some sort of potato dish and this here is a stew or something. I didn't know which one you'd rather have. We can share if you like.”

Thorin nodded and pulled one plate closer. “Sharing sounds good,” he smiled.

“How's Dis?” Bilbo asked after they'd started eating.

“Oh, she's great,” Thorin said and rolled his eyes. “She found someone again. Is convinced he's the love of her life. Said she wants me to meet him soon,” he grimaced.

“What's his name?”

“Vili or something... I don't remember,” Thorin shrugged.

Bilbo laughed. “Well, you will if it really is that serious.”

Thorin nodded and finished his last bite. “So, how about that mulled wine?” he asked as he rubbed his hands on his coat.

“Let's get some and then pound the booths,” Bilbo suggested, and so they went looking. They stopped at the first booth that sold drinks. Thorin bought a cup for himself. When he asked Bilbo which kind he wanted, the smaller man flushed and hurried to say: “Ah, um. I want the kids version.”

When Thorin blinked at him in surprise, he let out a small laugh and explained: “Oh you know, the last time I drank real mulled wine was two years ago with my first date. He convinced me to have some and- well, it went straight to my head. I don't really drink alcohol and I got a little... tipsy. It later turned out he just got me drunk because he wanted to kiss me, so... I didn't have the best experience with it,” he finished and laughed. Thorin watched him silently. Then he leaned closer to him.

“Are you afraid I'm gonna kiss you?” he asked.

Bilbo's breath caught. For a moment he thought he'd misheard, but Thorin was watching him intensely, seemingly waiting for an answer. He couldn't- he wasn't serious. Bilbo searched the taller man's face for anything that suggested he was joking, having a laugh. He found nothing. Instead, Thorin looked... almost nervous. Bilbo swallowed, realising then that he was breathing way too heavily.

“I... no. I'm not afraid of you kissing me,” he said under his breath and licked his lips. He hoped that the suggestion came across. Thorin's eyes dropped to his mouth, lingering there for a second before he looked up again and cocked his head.

“I think you should take the mulled wine,” he said, and his eyes pierced into Bilbo's. They remained silent for another moment that seemed to stretch out endlessly. Bilbo finally realised that he was blushing and nodded hastily, then swallowed again. His heart was going to jump out of his chest; he was sure of it.

“I- I'll take the same as him, please,” he told the woman behind the booth. She filled a cup and gave it to him with a wink. Bilbo was horrified when he realised that she'd listened to the entire exchange. This was _so_ embarrassing. He tried to calm down, as he already felt dizzy without having drunk a single draught.

They both took their cups and slendered around the booths, finding presents for their families and little treats for themselves. All that time he was hyper-aware of Thorin's presence by his side, the tall body that was touching his every now and then, sending shivers down his spine while their conversation still spun in his head.

When they'd reached the merry-go-round that marked the end of the market, they both stopped and watched it turn. The crowd pressed them together; they were standing very closely. Bilbo could feel Thorin, he could feel him _everywhere_ and dear God, he was going mad.  
Suddenly he felt like the tension was too much. He turned to face him and opened his mouth to say something, anything-

and found himself being kissed by Thorin.

His mind blanked completely. For a split second he was frozen, feeling only and entirely the touch of Thorin's lips on his.

Then a switch inside him was turned and he pushed his fingers into Thorin's hair as he began to kiss him back fiercely. Thorin gasped in surprise when Bilbo took over and started licking his lips boldly. He parted his mouth willingly and groaned in union with him when their tongues met. Bilbo threw every remaining restraint over board and devoured everything he got hold of; Thorin's lips, Thorin's tongue, the inside of his mouth.

When they eventually parted, it was only because Bilbo feared to faint from the lack of air. They stood very closely, with Bilbo's hands still tangled in Thorin's hair, panting in union. Bilbo wanted to keep his eyes closed, but he had to take this moment in. Reassure himself that it was real, that it wasn't a dream.

He looked up at Thorin's face and saw that the other man regarded him breathlessly. His face was as flushed as Bilbo felt and he could hear him breathing heavily. And by god, he was _sure_ that this had to be a dream. But it was real. He exclaimed a laugh. Thorin raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to say something, but Bilbo forestalled him and caught his lips between his own again.

That kiss was shorter and a lot sweeter. Bilbo suddenly felt himself tear up and broke the contact. He closed his eyes and then pulled Thorin into a hug, burying his face in the man's neck, running his fingers through his hair and breathing in his scent. Thorin closed his arms around him and they stood like that for a long time, not saying anything, just breathing.

 

When they got home later that evening, Bilbo still felt slightly dizzy. He'd laced his fingers with Thorin's on the way back, feeling himself blush when Thorin had squeezed his hand and rubbed it immediately. He already missed the contact when they finally had to part to go to their bedrooms.

“Well,” Bilbo said and chuckled. “Thanks for the nice night." _What an understatement._ "I'll see you tomorrow.” He smiled at Thorin's flushing face and went for his room, feeling giddy.

“Bilbo.” He turned around. Thorin was looking at him nervously, a soft smile on his lips. “Thank you. For earlier. And thank you for taking me out. I really needed it.”

Bilbo opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say in response. Then he turned, walking back to him. He cupped Thorin's face with his hands and softly pressed his lips against his mouth. Thorin shut his eyes and nibbled his lips gently. They stood there and kissed for a while, neither wanting to let go.  
At last Bilbo pulled away, out of the fear of the kiss turning into something else. This wasn't the time or the place.

“I had a lovely time as well,” he breathed out and pecked Thorin's nose. “Goodnight, Thorin.”


	10. Whatever Will Be

Bilbo awoke the next morning with a start, not having been able to fall asleep for a long time the night before as he'd tossed in his bed positively giddy, replaying the memories of the evening in his head.

His chest tightened for a moment as a wave of anxiety rushed through him, thinking he'd dreamed everything. But then he remembered the look in Thorin's eyes, the taste of his wondrously soft lips, the warmth of his touch, the feeling of kissing and being kissed by him, and he knew he couldn't have made that up.

Bilbo got up and padded out of his bedroom, finding the bathroom locked. Seeing as Dwalin had left the night before to spend Christmas with his family – the bugger already had his last exam behind him, while Thorin and Bilbo had to last two more days – it must've been Thorin who occupied it.

Bilbo smiled softly and hummed to himself as he started preparing tea and breakfast for the two of them. When the door opened he didn't turn to look, just calling a “good morning” over his shoulder as he kept moving the pan around. The gentle touch of two hands on his waist caught him off guard. He almost jumped as Thorin turned him around, fondly smiling down at him.

“Good morning,” he said lightly and closed his arms around Bilbo's torso. Bilbo's stomach reacted accordingly by doing a flip.

“Morning,” he echoed dreamily, remembering too late that he'd already said that. Thorin cocked an eyebrow at him, the smile never leaving his face. Bilbo hadn't seen him this relaxed since Dis had left. It was a sight he could get used to, he thought. Especially when he was the one causing it. He couldn't quite help the smile that spread on his face. “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“I did,” Thorin affirmed, and he stood so close that Bilbo could feel the vibration in his chest. He shuddered involuntarily. “And you?”

“Just fine,” Bilbo said and and bit his lip, the closeness to him making him feel slightly dizzy.

Thorin hummed at that. He blinked down at Bilbo, and his mouth was so dangerously close, Bilbo just had to stretch up and press a quick kiss to Thorin's lips. The way his eyes widened made him laugh. “Don't look so dumbstruck,” he said. “You can expect a lot more of these from now on. Unless...” He cocked an eyebrow. “You don't want them?”

The look on Thorin's face was answer enough. He couldn't help but grin and brought his hand up to his face, the beard feeling bristly beneath his skin as he stroked his cheek. His other hand wandered to Thorin's neck. The way he leaned into the touch made his insides twist in all the right ways. He pulled him closer and hugged him tightly, cherishing the fact that he was allowed to do this; breathing in his scent, hearing the sound of his breath like a metre.

They stood like this for a while in the kitchen, Bilbo being completely lost in the moment, until _something_ caught his attention. “The eggs!” he cried as he identified the burnt smell and spun around to save their breakfast. Thorin snickered and stepped back to set the table.

They ate breakfast in a giddy haze, so focused on the fact that this was their first morning as _more_ that they almost left too late for their classes.

 

Bilbo felt flustered the whole day, barely being able to focus on the lessons. Ori regarded him with big eyes all throughout their English lecture and eventually Bilbo gave in to the silent question, telling him what had happened in a low voice.

While recounting the events of the night before, he wondered to himself what Thorin and him were now, exactly.

Boyfriends? Partners? Were they even dating? Thorin certainly didn't seem to be opposed to the idea, whoever he had to thank for that. He'd have to talk about the specifics with him later.

Ori's downright excitement about the whole thing didn't help his own giddiness, and the time until he could return to their room passed agonisingly slow.

Thorin had courses for another hour when he got home, so Bilbo looked over his essay once more and started revising for the last exam, all the while having the other man in the back of his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut as the memory of their kisses flooded his mind and sighed heavily. He hadn't acted this _pubescent_  all throughout his youth, why now?

He figured it wasn't much use to keep staring at the pages before him when his mind kept wandering, so he grabbed the remote and lolloped on the sofa watching telly, waiting for Thorin to come home.

The sound of the door almost made him jump. He sat up as Thorin dropped his bag carelessly on the floor, lowering himself next to him on the sofa, groaning with exasperation.

Bilbo's lips curved into a smile and tilted his head. “Long day?” he asked, resisting the urge to raise his hand and brush some loose strands behind Thorin's ear.

He exhaled audibly and nodded. Then his eyes found Bilbo's and a smile spread on his face. “But it's good to be home now,” he said and Bilbo's stomach felt really funny at the sight of this affectionate gaze, directed at him. He leaned forward and pecked his cheek. “So, what's up for today?” he then enquired. Thorin sighed.

“I need to finish my assignment tonight and I still don't know how to end it. And I have to revise some more,” he groaned and rubbed his eyes. The tiredness was evident in his features.

“It's just two more days,” Bilbo said and nudged him. “We can do that, and then we have the whole break until Spring term to relax.” Thorin didn't seem too convinced of that statement. “How about this for now: you finish your assignment while I go and grab something to eat, alright? And after dinner we'll revise a bit together.”

“Yeah, alright,” Thorin sighed and, when he didn't seem to make any attempts to get started, Bilbo got up and handed him his bag before he left to get dinner. He hoped he'd get the chance to talk to Thorin about... _them_ when he returned.

Bilbo took some time with choosing dinner, so Thorin had already finished his assignment when he came back. They ate quickly, their books laying open next to their plates.

After dinner they moved to the couch, Bilbo finishing his revision first and then taking the book from Thorin's hands, asking question after question. Time went by and somehow they ended up pressed to one another, Thorin's head on Bilbo's shoulder, lazily answering the questions while Bilbo ran his fingers through his hair.

“I think that's it for tonight,” he decided when Thorin's replies kept getting more slack and short. “You've done really well, you will pass this exam with flying colours.”

Thorin glanced up at him and Bilbo's breath halted for a moment, caught up in the piercing eyes that looked at him with such miraculous softness. Honestly, he had no idea how he did that.

“Thank you,” Thorin murmured quietly and pressed a kiss to Bilbo's shoulder, not lifting his head. Bilbo's heart fluttered too quickly for such a small gesture.

“Thorin...” he said after a moment of silence, taking the chance to bring up what was on his mind. “What- what are we, exactly?” The man hummed questioningly on his neck. “I mean- are we dating? Or are we... together? Boyfriends?” Bilbo pondered. “It's just... I told Ori about you and I was wondering what I should call you from now on. What I _can_ call you.”

Thorin seemed to think about that for a moment. “I don't know,” he said finally. “Do you like the term “boyfriend”? I know some people don't, but I've got nothing against it. You could say we're partners, of course, but then our relationship might be mistaken for a business arrangement.”

Bilbo bit his lip and dug deeper. “So, we _are_ , then? We're not just... dating? Whatever that actually means. You know, I never really understood the difference. I never actually dated anyone at all, for a longer time that is, and I didn't bother to find out, but now-”

Thorin rose from his position and Bilbo was effectively silenced by a kiss; a soft, sweet, tender kiss right on his lips. “We _are,_ ” Thorin said as he retreated slightly and watched Bilbo with a hint of amusement in his features.

“...boyfriends?” Bilbo peeped eventually, still breathless from the meeting of their lips.

“If you want to be,” Thorin nodded softly and Bilbo hurried to nod as well, and there were other things he'd wanted to talk about, questions he'd wanted to ask, but suddenly Thorin's hands were cupping his face and he shut his eyes and let it happen, and soon all remaining thoughts were effectively wiped from his mind, replaced with one word only, his name hammering again and again in his mind.

“Thorin...” he gasped out, and he replied with a low groaning that rumbled in his throat.

And in the end, Bilbo wasn't too sure how exactly they'd ended up lying on the couch, kissing endlessly, but he certainly wasn't going to complain about it.

He felt the touch of their intertwined fingers and the sensation of Thorin's lips on his, the warmth of his breath, the weight of his body against his own, and he thought he might explode from loving this too much.

He thought that he could spend the rest of his days doing this and never get tired of it.

He thought that he loved this man, really, truly, wholly and more than he'd ever loved anything else, and for a moment he was scared for his frail heart, but then Thorin tightened his grip around him and he thought that whatever would happen to them now, or later, or whenever, it would be worth it.

 


	11. A Matter Of Focus

Sadly, loving someone didn't heal them or set them free from the problems they carried – Bilbo learned that soon.

After spending the evening on the sofa, holding each other close and kissing lazily, unwilling to part, they went to bed – each to their own – and tried to get a good night's rest.

Bilbo woke before dawn, his sleep disturbed by noises ripping through the dark, the tortured sounds from next door all too audible in the silence of the night. He sat up, trying to blink his tiredness away as he threw his duvet from his bed and hastened into the other room.

“Hey, Thorin,” he mumbled and sat on the bed, touching the man's arm. He was still asleep, caught in a dream Bilbo didn't want to imagine. He started rubbing his arm softly, then caressing his hair, talking to lift him from sleep gently, not wanting to scare him.

When he finally opened his eyes and his gaze darted around the darkened room in disorientation, Bilbo shushed him gently and mumbled under his breath: “It's me, Bilbo, it's me. You're okay. You're having an episode, but I'm here to help you” and then “I'm here, you're okay”, again and again until he seemed to listen.

“You had a bad dream,” he whispered when Thorin's gaze finally found him and softly wiped the sweat from his forehead. “It's over now. You're okay.”

He sat and caressed the man until his breath evened out, his chest hurting at the sight of his obvious pain. And when he finally seemed calm enough to rest a bit it wasn't even a question that Bilbo slipped beneath the blanket with him, holding him tight until morning light shone upon them, hoping to keep the night terrors away.

They both woke tired and unrested, facing their last day before the final exam with a heavy sigh. They went to their courses and met up again for lunch in the cafeteria, unconsciously drawing it out as long as they could before having to leave to revise some more. 

They made their way to the library, both having the rest of the day free to study. They chose a small table in a corner, shielded from the other students and the general noise.

Bilbo tried to will his tiredness away and opened the textbook with a sigh, immersing himself in the matter, prepared for a long afternoon. Thorin opposite him was seemingly doing the same.

Only that they didn't get much studying done before _something_ changed. At first, Bilbo wasn't too sure whether he just imagined it; the change in the air, the altered atmosphere.

He put the blame on his unfocusedness due to the lack of sleep and dismissed the thought, trying to go back to revising.

Until he felt the suggestive touch of a hand on his knee. His eyes darted to Thorin and the man, though he was still pretending to be focused on his notes, couldn't hide his smirk for much longer.

“Thorin,” Bilbo breathed out shakily. “What exactly are you doing?”

His eyes darted around the room, checking if someone was watching them. Thorin shrugged. “I'm touching your knee,” he said innocently and Bilbo rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile that spread on his face.

“And why are you doing that?”

“Hmmm,” Thorin hummed and blinked at him cheekily. “Because I want to? Because my hands are cold and I'm trying to warm them? Because you look tense and I want to distract you? I don't know, which one do you want to hear?”

Bilbo sighed and set his book down, but didn't nudge Thorin's hand away. “Yeah, I'm tense, alright? I need to pass all my exams and do well on the essays, as do you. Also, I'm worried about you because you've been under this pressure for way too long and _you_ should be the one to get distracted from everything, but I don't know how, so we're just going to have to stick to revising for a bit more and sit this out.”

He let out a frustrated sigh. Thorin's fingers squeezed his knee and stroked his leg softly. Bilbo shot him a glare.

“You know,” Thorin said under his breath and leaned closer to him, “I can think of something entirely else to distract myself.”

He could feel the warmth of his breath on his face and realised then that he'd licked his lips unconsciously at the sudden closeness.

Thorin smirked and leaned in for a kiss without much ado, and Bilbo _tried_ to protest weakly, he really did, but the words died in his throat as he felt the texture of Thorin's lips on his own and he decided then and there to just let it go and accept that it was happening.

His tongue darted out of his mouth and he licked over Thorin's, grinning at the sound that drew from him. He caught his lip between his and sucked until he squirmed, then let go and started working on another spot, reducing the taller man to small, trembling gasps.

Bilbo smirked inwardly. _Two can play that game_ , he thought.

He shifted slightly and kneeled on his chair with one leg so he had better access to his mouth, positively devouring it, completely blending out their surroundings while a small part of his brain was left to just hope that nobody would come to their corner that moment.

 _Oh_. He then felt the aftermath of their session and knew he really ought to sit back down. And he had to break the heated kiss _right now_ , before he'd climb onto that damned table and take him right there.

They parted reluctantly and completely out of breath, staying so close that they breathed each other's air as their pulses slowly returned to normal. Bilbo loved Thorin's panting, loved that he could make him do that. He listened to the sound, feeling rather smug.

“Well. That...”

“-was a really good distraction,” Thorin supplemented and grinned, looking flushed and dishevelled from the kiss.

“And now we'll go back to studying,” Bilbo added innocently, trying to will the blood back into his head from where it had run to.

“You know, we could just-”

“ _No,_ ” Bilbo interrupted and shook his head sternly, using every ounce of willpower to stay firm because really, he wasn't in any state of mind to revise now and he'd much rather comply with Thorin's wish and leave this place... in a few minutes. But there were other things to be done, for crying out loud. “No, we could not! We both need to do well tomorrow, so we're _not_ leaving the library now, and we're not going home, and we're not going to do whatever it is you have in mind right now.”

He took a deep breath and collected himself, forcing the things _he_ had on his mind away.

Thorin sighed in defiance and lingered on his knee for another moment before withdrawing, looking as though Bilbo had just taken away his favourite toy. Really, it was hilariously endearing. Bilbo had to bite his lip in order to stay serious. He threw another glance at the pouting man before returning to his books with an internal sigh, completely snapped out of the matter now.

He couldn't quite bring himself to care so much.


	12. Right Here, Right Now's All We've Got

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Return of the pine tree! This time, an actual one.  
> Blame a comment on Chapter 6 that made me laugh so much, I just had to write it. Here be Bilbo paired with a pine tree. And alcohol. Oh boy.

Bilbo cracked one eye open as he awoke, his head throbbing unpleasantly. The light shining onto his face through the window made him shut both eyes again, cringing. He pressed his hands against his eyelids and sat up slowly, carefully avoiding the dizziness that threatened to build with the movement.

He sat like that for a minute, trying to clear his mind. He'd only ever felt like this once... Good god.

Water. He needed lots and lots of water, before he could even attempt to try and remember what exactly had happened.

He padded into the kitchen and poured down a glass of water at the sink, ignoring the funny feeling in his stomach (actually, not funny, not at all), before filling another one and sitting down at the table, groaning. He almost jumped when Thorin got out of the bathroom. Usually he got up before him, so he hadn't expected him to be up and about already. He glanced at the clock . His eyes widened when he saw the time.

“Good morning, little one,” Thorin teased him and dropped a kiss on his hair as he walked past him to grab something from the kitchen. “Or should I say noon?”

Bilbo grunted something incomprehensible and heard Thorin laughing behind him. “Thorin, I don't remember anything that happened after we left the party,” he lamented, gulping some more water. “Or rather I do remember something, but it can't possibly-”

Thorin sat down opposite him and the smile on his face was entirely too amused for Bilbo's taste. He stared at him in disbelief, then put his head in his hands and groaned again. “Please don't tell me-”

“Oh, yes,” the other man smirked and quirked an eyebrow as Bilbo squeezed his eyes. He shook his head and asked aghastly, “Thorin, what the bloody hell happened last night?”

 

_\- 24 hours earlier -_

Bilbo jumped from the sofa when the door opened, greeting Thorin with an eager hug.

“How was it? How did it go?” he enquired. He'd gotten back from the exam – his final exam for the term, he was _done_ now – a bit earlier, waiting for his boyfriend (his heart still jumped at the word) to come home.

Thorin rubbed his back and hummed contently. “It went just fine,” he said as he let go of Bilbo. “I could have used a bit more time, but that's probably normal. Otherwise it was good.” He sighed and Bilbo could watch the realisation sink in, softening his features visibly. “And now it's over,” he smiled and Bilbo hummed affirmatively, leaning in for a kiss that was promptly granted and, though short and chaste, left him wobbly on his feet.

He smiled to himself as Thorin went past him to the kitchen, then turned to follow him and said, “You know, there's another party tonight to celebrate the end of the term. Someone from my Geography courses asked if I was coming.”

Thorin shrugged. “Do you want to go?” he asked.

“I- yes, maybe. I don't know. I just thought that...” he trailed off, chewing on his lip.

“You thought _I_ wouldn't want to go because of what happened last time?” Thorin asked and quirked an eyebrow.

“Yes, in a way,” Bilbo admitted.

“It's fine. We can go if you like, I don't have a problem with it.”

“Are you sure? I mean, last time it hit you pretty bad-”

“Last time I was unprepared and having a bad day. Now I know what to expect,” Thorin interrupted and stepped closer to him, looking at him with faint amusement. “There's no problem at all. I can still go about normal life, you know,” he said and pecked Bilbo's nose as he blushed.

“I know that,” he mumbled.

“So? Are we going? I don't care either way,” Thorin shrugged.

“I don't know. I thought staying home might be nice, or just the two of us going out. But we could also just drop by the party and stay for an hour or so, so I can say goodbye to everyone.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Thorin affirmed and smiled reassuringly at the smaller man. “But I'm not as much fun at parties as Dwalin,” he added and grinned when Bilbo laughed at the memory of their other roommate having a blast at that first party. It seemed so long ago now.

“I think you'll find I'm not either,” he smiled and then chuckled. “But then again, who is?”

 

Most students of Erebor, apparently - that was the answer. If Bilbo had thought he'd exaggerated the sheer size and noise of the last party in his memory, he was proven wrong the moment he entered the common room. The gathering was wild and merry and the overall relief about the arrival of the holidays swamped the air.

Thorin was standing beside him in the door frame, taking in the scene before them. He didn't look anxious as he was watching the fireplace, just deep in thought and very far away. Bilbo slipped his hand into his bigger one and he ripped his eyes from the flames, turning to Bilbo instead. The younger man smiled and squeezed his hand, and they entered the room without letting go.

Thorin looked for a spot to sit that wasn't too close to the fireplace, whether he did so unconsciously Bilbo didn't know, but he didn't ask either. Bilbo got them something to drink and they clinked their cups.

“To the end of our first term,” Bilbo said solemnly and drank a mouthful.

“Classy,” Thorin remarked and took a sip.

“Shut up,” Bilbo grinned and leaned onto him. “This is university. We're making all the right memories right now.”

Thorin hummed softly, running his fingers through Bilbo's curls. They sat and watched the other students dance until their drinks were empty, then Bilbo got up to refill. Thorin supposed he'd met someone in the crowd when he didn't come back for a while. But as the seat next to him was quickly taken by a student from his Economics courses he got along with well, he didn't mind too much. He only turned his head from the conversation when he heard Bilbo's voice cutting through the noise of the party after some time.

“Thorin!” he called as he came up to him, eyes blown just a bit too wide, looking overly excited. Thorin guessed he'd had that second drink, then. “What is it?” he asked when the man gesticulated wildly.

“This song! It played the first time we were here too!” he exclaimed and pulled Thorin's arm. “Come _on_! This is our song!”

“This is most certainly _not_ our song,” Thorin responded, looking scandalised. But he let the smaller man pull him to the dancefloor anyway.

Bilbo closed his eyes and started moving to the beat so excitedly that Thorin couldn't help but join him soon. They danced and when the voice sang “we gon' dance until we drop, a little party never killed nobody, right here, right now's all we got” they kissed and it tasted of alcohol and adrenaline and excitement and then they danced some more, together, and that drowned out everything else for a long while.

 

They didn't dance until they dropped, though. After a while they had enough of the crowd and decided to leave, but not without stealing away a bottle of sparkling wine. When they'd left the room they both took a deep breath, cherishing the silence.

Bilbo appeared to be rather tipsy as they walked to their room. He nearly stumbled over his own feet several times until they stopped in front of their door.

“Can we go outside for a bit?” Bilbo asked suddenly and glanced up at Thorin. “I know it's cold but it's so beautiful and calm outside and some fresh air would be so nice, really nice. Don't you think? It was so full and stuffy in there, wasn't it, I think it's-”

“I'll get our coats,” Thorin interrupted softly before Bilbo could chatter on, the alcohol evidently having loosened his tongue even more than usual.

They got dressed and as they walked outside, one hand slipped into the other almost naturally. Their fingers intertwined firmly. Outside they stood for a moment, watching their breath form clouds in front of their faces. Then Bilbo pulled Thorin to a bench and leaned on his shoulder when they sat.

“Where's that bottle?” he asked after some time of marvellous silence.

“Here,” Thorin said and shook his right hand.

“Let's open it,” Bilbo snickered and sat up, clapping enthusiastically when the cork popped. They each drank a mouthful and then slumped against each other again, passing the bottle from time to time.

“You know, this is even classier than the cups back there,” Bilbo remarked and giggled at Thorin's huff.

“What about the memories?” he countered and smiled at Bilbo's soft humming. “We're definitely making some right now. Don't tell me you don't like them.”

He turned to look at Bilbo and couldn't help but smile when he realised that the man didn't seem opposed to liking anything right now, as he was staring at the sky and following a plane with his finger, tracing the outline in the air.

“You know, I never wanted to get drunk again in my life,” he mused and looked at Thorin. His eyes, though they clearly weren't sober, were fond when they found his gaze. “But with you it's not so bad. I like it a lot.”

Thorin exhaled a laugh. “You'll probably feel differently about this in the morning," he pointed out.

Bilbo grimaced. “Yeah.” Then he giggled. “It _is_ morning. Look at the time!”

He held out his hand for the bottle, but Thorin shook it with a half-smile and said, “It's empty. Probably for the best, though.” He grinned at the sight of his disappointed face. Bilbo pouted for a moment before getting distracted by something to his left.

“Oh my _God!_ ” he exclaimed, and it was then that Thorin – he himself being just a little tipsy – realised just how much the alcohol had affected the small man.

“What is it?” he asked, bemused. Bilbo had jumped up (or rather tried to, before stumbling and just so catching himself on the bench) and was now pointing at a decorated tree next to them, looking extremly thrilled.

“It's a Christmas tree!”

Thorin regarded the tree, then Bilbo, then the tree again, trying to make out what was so special about that. “...yes,” he said eventually, not knowing what Bilbo was on about. “It's Christmas in a few days,” he added helpfully.

The man turned to the tree and cried: “It's a _pine tree!_ ”

He shook his head as if he just couldn't believe it, then started laughing hysterically, almost sinking to the ground. Thorin stood up and carefully approached his drunk boyfriend, touching his arm gently. “It is indeed,” he confirmed and jumped when Bilbo hurled towards the tree with his arms open, as though he was trying to hug it.

“My brother!”

“Right!” Thorin said and held him back. “I think that's enough for tonight,” he decided and gripped Bilbo's arm, tearing him from the tree as he started to make his way back to the dorm.

“I know how you feel! I shared your pain. But not anymore!” Bilbo called after the tree as they walked back inside. Thorin shook his head. The drunk man giggled and clung to Thorin's arm.

“I was one once, you know,” he told Thorin in a low voice, as though he was entrusting him with a well kept secret.

“Sure you were,” Thorin nodded and couldn't help but giggle. They entered the flat and knowing all too well that trying to get him into the bathroom was futile, Thorin led him straight to his room. “But I'm very glad you're just Bilbo now. I happen to like Bilbo very much, you know. A lot more than some tree.”

Bilbo sat on the bed, smiling at something with his eyes half closed. “We should sleep now,” Thorin said and bent to press a quick kiss to Bilbo's adorably reddened cheeks. The man caught Thorin's hair between his hands and pulled him down into a sloppy kiss, giggling when he lost his balance. Then he stole another kiss, and another, and then attempted to pull him onto his bed.

“No way,” Thorin mumbled against his mouth and broke the contact. “I am _not_ getting into your bed tonight. You're drunk.”

“No,” Bilbo shook his head as if Thorin was making a fundamental mistake, “I'm _in love_.”

Thorin gasped at him, then shook his head and said firmly: “Well, one doesn't exclude the other. I'm not going to bed with you tonight, little one.” He pressed another quick kiss to Bilbo's pouting lips and turned to leave. “Sleep now,” he said before turning. “Oh, and Bilbo - say that again when you're sober and it might end differently.”

He grinned at the sight of his abandoned boyfriend sitting on the bed and turned off the lights, going straight to bed himself. When he fell asleep, Bilbo was already dreaming.

 

 

Bilbo stared at Thorin with his mouth hanging agape, watching the other man's shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“You're telling me that- that I _actually_ tried to hug a bloody _pine tree_?” Thorin nodded without saying a word, perhaps because he wasn't able to without breaking into laughter again. “And then I said that I _was_ one once?” he repeated, sounding horrified. “Oh my god,” he groaned and hit his head against the table. “I am never. Drinking. Alcohol. Again.”

Thorin grinned and remarked drily: “Oh you know. I actually thought it was kind of cute, after the initial shock. You were quite adorable.”

Bilbo groaned louder and got up to pad to the bathroom without another word. He could still hear Thorin laughing after the door was closed.


	13. Undisclosed Desires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turns into... what I consider one of the most significant and important moments in this story, I hope I did it justice.
> 
> Title's taken from the amazing "Undisclosed Desires" by Muse, which is perfect for Thorin and Bilbo. If you don't know that song, please, I urge you to improve your life and go listen to it.

Before they knew it, it was Christmas Day. Only few students had stayed at Erebor for the holidays, so Thorin and Bilbo spent the remaining days (after having recovered from the night of the party) in blissful cosiness. 

They'd spent Christmas Eve in Dale, having dinner at a small, lovely place and roaming the streets, wishing each other a Merry Christmas with a sweet kiss when the spire's bell striked midnight, one of the sort that left Bilbo slightly dizzy and still hungry for more.

When they'd returned home they'd slipped under some blankets immediately, savouring the warmth and closeness of the other person as they'd cuddled up to each other before going to sleep.

When Bilbo got up the next morning he felt the prickling excitement of Christmas in his stomach, just like when he'd been a child. He cherished the feeling for a moment before getting up, passing their miniature Christmas tree when he made his way to the bathroom. He smiled as his eyes found the present he'd gotten for Thorin and slipped underneath the tree before going to bed the night before. It was nothing special but he quite liked it, and he hoped Thorin would too.

He played with the thought of letting his boyfriend sleep in, but the excitement took over him and he decided to wake him.

He opened the door slowly and peeked inside, sneaking into his room. “Wake up, Thorin,” he called cheerfully and grinned at the man as he blinked and stared at the intruder blankly.

“Why are you doing this to me?” he asked hoarsely.

“It's Christmas Day!”

“So?”

“Oh, don't be daft,” Bilbo said and pulled Thorin's arm, drawing another groan from the grumpy man. “We need to open the presents!”

Thorin chuntered something into his beard but got up reluctantly, following Bilbo who'd stormed back into the living room, already sitting on the floor next to the tree.

“Sit!” he called and grinned expectantly.

Thorin cocked an eyebrow. “You _will_ let me go to the bathroom first.”

Bilbo snickered and waited impatiently, pulling him down as soon as he returned. He reached for a light package and handed it to his boyfriend, encouraging him to start unpacking. “You first.”

The presents were from his massive extended family, who apparently all preferred to send gifts instead of actually visiting. Thorin opened them all, laughing about some and rolling his eyes at others.

He cocked an eyebrow when Bilbo handed him the last one, a flat package that hadn't been there the night before. Bilbo just smiled innocently and maybe looked a tad nervous, so Thorin opened it curiously. He pulled the wrapping paper off and handed it to his boyfriend, revealing a noble-looking sketchbook. He opened his mouth in surprise and looked at Bilbo, then returned his gaze to the present and ran his hand over the binding.

“It's leather,” Bilbo said. He nodded, then flipped it open and felt the texture of the thick paper, smiling softly. “I hope this is alright for your drawings. I found it in a little shop in Dale while I was looking for something for my Dad. I saw it and... well, it just looked like the perfect book for you, so I bought it. The woman in the shop said it's especially good for charcoal drawings, if you want to do that. I don't know _if_ you ever do that, to be honest, but maybe you want to try. If not that's fine too. I noticed that your other journal was almost full and I thought that you needed a new one, because you really shouldn't stop doing these. You can-”

Thorin leaned forward and stopped the endless wave of chatter with a kiss. Bilbo squeaked in surprise, then cupped his face and kissed him back deeply, looking slightly breathless when they parted.

“It's perfect,” Thorin smiled. “Thank you.” Bilbo felt his cheeks flushing and grinned in response.

“Now you,” Thorin said and nodded towards his pile of presents. Bilbo snatched the biggest one and shook it before tearing the paper off. It was from his parents and cousins who were too far away to celebrate with him, so they'd sent him his gifts instead. He unwrapped them all and smiled contently at what he'd gotten. When the last package was opened, Thorin cleared his throat.

“So, about your present,” he said and turned to Bilbo, sounding slightly unsure.

“Oh, Thorin- It's fine, really,” Bilbo hurried to say. “I really don't expect one. You don't have to get me anything,” he assured him and fiddled with the wrapping paper, suddenly feeling nervous as well. “I know it's our first Christmas and we only just got together, so it's really not- I'd just already bought yours so I thought I might as well give it to you. I realise it might be too soon but then again I already had it when we weren't together yet and so I thought I could just-”

“Bilbo,” Thorin interrupted and shook his head at his little tirade with a small smile. “I _do_ have something for you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He swallowed, looking at Bilbo tentatively. “It's in my room. I couldn't wrap it, so I didn't put it under the tree.”

“Oh. Okay.” Bilbo licked his lips expectantly. “What is it?”

Thorin gestured him to wait and vanished into his room. Bilbo was left sitting on the floor cross-legged, waiting eagerly for his return. Thorin came back holding a convolved sheet of paper, looking really nervous all of a sudden as he blushed adorably.

“Here,” he said without much ado and held it out to Bilbo. The smaller man's eyes had lit up at the sight and he eagerly took the paper, careful not to crack it. He unrolled the drawing and then stared at what he saw, gasping.

Thorin had drawn him a map. Well, not just a map. The poster-sized sheet displayed many trails that spread all across the paper wildly, the names of fictional cities scribbled under little drawings of mountains, buildings and landscapes, all brought together as a map of a fantasy world with so much love for detail that Bilbo just couldn't stop staring. He kept looking at it, marvelling at every detail. There was even a _dragon_ somewhere.

He realised his mouth hung open and he shut it before finally tearing his eyes from the present and looking at Thorin, who watched him anxiously. “Oh Thorin,” he breathed out, overwhelmed with the wave of affection he felt.

“Do you-”

This time it was Thorin who was being silenced by the kiss. Bilbo had thrown himself onto the man and snogged him thoroughly, burying his fingers in his hair, breathing heavily.

“It's beautiful,” he whispered onto Thorin's lips and pressed another kiss to his mouth. “It's so beautiful.” He nibbled his lip, licked inside his parted mouth, and his heart jumped at the groan Thorin let out.

“I love it. I love it so much”, he breathed into him, occupying his lips again before he got the chance to reply. Thorin opened his mouth willingly and let him in, tugging at Bilbo's loose shirt as he sucked on his lip.

His eyes fluttered shut as the smaller man started to make his way down to his jaw by pressing soft kisses to his skin, wandering further away until he was nibbling at his throat, making him lose balance. They tipped over and the kisses were disrupted by giggling.

Bilbo licked his lips and peeked at the man beneath him before diving in for another kiss, catching his lips between his own, moving in a rhythm that left him trembling. Thorin's hands slipped under his shirt and he gasped at the touch of his skin, breaking the kiss momentarily.

They both panted and looked at each other for a moment before Thorin asked hoarsely: “Bedroom?”, and Bilbo almost knocked himself out from nodding too hard. They stumbled into Thorin's room, all tangled up when they landed on the bed.

Bilbo scrambled onto Thorin's lap immediately, entirely too eager to reconnect with his boyfriend's lips. Thorin cupped Bilbo's face and they stilled, breathing each other's air for a moment, remaining in their position.

The air was heavy, almost buzzing. When Thorin leaned in agonisingly slow and caught Bilbo's lips between his once more, it was different. The kiss was slower and deeper and made fireworks explode in Bilbo's chest, and when they parted eventually they were both trembling.

Bilbo buried his face in the curve of his neck and nuzzled him softly. Thorin placed his hands on Bilbo's waist, lingering there as though he was seeking confirmation and when the other man nodded, he pulled the shirt over his head. Bilbo tugged at Thorin's Erebor jumper impatiently and he lifted his arms so he could get rid of it.

Bilbo caressed his lips again as soon as the jumper was gone and tentatively touched Thorin's chest, which drew a low groan from the man and a chuckle from Bilbo. He slid his hands down, marvelling at the feeling of his skin under his fingers.

When he reached his waist Thorin suddenly caught his wrist, holding it in place. Bilbo broke the kiss and opened his eyes, raising his eyebrows questioningly. Thorin looked at him for a moment, almost curiously, then put his hand around Bilbo's and guided it further down, watching his expression intently.

It was only when the texture of his skin changed beneath his fingers that Bilbo realised. He formed a silent “oh” with his mouth, blinking at Thorin. Then he lowered his gaze to look at the scar tissue. It was of a red shade, the colour stood out against his darker skin. Some parts were thicker than others, feeling bulging when he touched the area.

He slid from Thorin's lap and kneeled on the bed, tracing the healed wound with his fingers, wondering how far it stretched on his back.

“Turn around?” he whispered and Thorin nodded once, shifting to grant Bilbo a better view of the mark that stretched from the front of his waist all the way to his back, covering his left shoulder blade almost completely.

It wasn't small. It didn't look pretty.

It made him so beautiful that it rendered Bilbo speechless.

He knew that Thorin was waiting for a reaction from him, knew that he was scared of what he'd say. He thought that no words he knew could describe what he was thinking.

So he put his hand gently on the scar, tracing it, and then lowered his head to press a soft kiss to the burnt flesh, closing his eyes. Thorin's breath halted for a moment, and somehow this was the most intimate thing Bilbo had ever done in his life.

He swallowed and placed another kiss on the scar tissue, a bit further down. Then another, and another, slowly tracing the length of it with his lips until he was on the ground, kneeling before Thorin, looking up at him openly.

The man swallowed and lifted his hand to Bilbo in a silent question. Bilbo took it and placed a kiss on his palm, then stroked the skin and asked him quietly to lie down.

He did so without question and Bilbo climbed on top of him, placing on his mouth a kiss so tender that it almost hurt, almost left him trembling. He cupped his face and tried to tell him all he could not say aloud through the movement of his lips. Thorin responded just too willingly and Bilbo's hands wandered down, tugging on his trousers.

The remaining cloth came off in no time and after readjusting their position for a moment, he leaned in to caress Thorin's skin with his mouth once more.

First his lips. Then his jaw. His neck, his chest, his abs. His navel, and then he went lower and lower still.

He was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and small gasps that told him to go on, do more of that.

And that he did. And it was wonderful, keen and tender and shy and most trusting and truly the most intimate thing Bilbo had ever done, the most personal experience of his whole life. And as he lay half on top of Thorin afterwards, sprawled over the length of his body, listening to his heartbeat and the steadiness of his breath, it wasn't hard to say the words at all, wasn't even a question.

I love you.  
They burned in his throat and he had to let them out to bear the fire. _I love you, I love you, I love you_. Growing stronger each time he repeated them.

He loved him, he loved him so much that it hurt him to breathe sometimes, and he smiled and thought that he might be okay with that, so long as he wasn't the only one drowning.


	14. The Future Is Now

Bilbo ran his fingers over Thorin's naked skin softly, thinking that he could stay like this forever. The heat of the other man's body kept him warm under the blanket, his skin was occupation enough as he traced it lazily.

“I should draw you things more often,” Thorin remarked after a while and Bilbo buried his face in his chest, giggling.

In the end, it was Bilbo's stomach that made them move. He groaned when it growled and Thorin peeked at him in surprise, apparently having forgotten that they'd have to leave the bed eventually to satisfy their human wants.

“We should get up,” he said after a moment. Bilbo ignored him.

“Bilbo,” he mumbled and the man squirmed when he slipped a hand into his light curls to draw a reaction from him. “You're hungry,” he stated and dropped a kiss on the top of his head.

“No,” Bilbo declined.

Thorin laughed and the vibration of his body made Bilbo shiver. “Well, _I'm_ hungry,” he said. Bilbo glared at him.

Thorin waited for a minute, but Bilbo simply refused to give up his place on top of him, so he stretched to reach for their carelessly dropped clothes next to the bed and held them out to him with a smirk. “I wouldn't want you starving,” he apologised and Bilbo sighed, taking his shirt and rolling from the man reluctantly to get dressed. Thorin got up as well and put on his trousers, watching Bilbo with a smile.

“What?” he demanded to know when he turned and caught him looking.

“You know, those christmas themed pyjama trousers will forever be the sexiest thing to me now,” he grinned and Bilbo stretched to peck his nose when he'd pulled the sweater over his head.

“And I'm pretty sure I won't be able to look at you in this Erebor jumper again. Hell, I'll probably get a hard-on in class everytime I see someone wearing one.”

Thorin didn't seem opposed to the idea and Bilbo nudged his chest playfully, shaking his head. “Come on, then,” he said and pulled his arm. “Time to eat something. I think there's Christmas movies on the telly, if they're showing Home Alone I _will_ make you watch it.”

“No complaints from me,” Thorin smiled and followed him to the kitchen.

They ate together and watched Home Alone and another movie and then one more, and by the time night had arrived they were stumbling into the bedroom again. And that was the way they spent their first Christmas, and Bilbo wouldn't have had it any other way.

 

Dwalin came back two days before New Year's Eve, hurling both his cousin and Bilbo in a bone-crushing hug as soon as he entered the flat.

He unpacked his luggage, then sat with them in the living room and grinned broadly as he watched them. Bilbo flushed involuntarily when Dwalin's eyes met his. Damn his knowing smirk!

But he couldn't _actually_ know about them. ...could he? He'd only been back for half an hour. They hadn't left anything suggestive lying around, they sat in appropriate distance to each other on the sofa, they acted completely normal around each other. No, he couldn't know, Bilbo decided. He simply couldn't.

“So,” Dwalin said and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Tell me. How did it happen?”

Bilbo's mouth hung open. Well. So much for that.

He and Thorin exchanged a glance. Thorin blinked, bewildered. “How did you...” he started out.

Bilbo flushed and strictly kept his eyes from him, staring at Dwalin. _That's it,_ he thought. _He'll tell him about my pathetic pining, and Thorin will remember the pine tree incident and connect the dots, and he'll never be able to take me seriously again_.

The man winked at him and then replied: “Oh, c'mon. You basically radiate domestic bliss, both of you. Not to mention that sort of post-coital contentment,” he added and smiled smugly as Bilbo blushed vigorously.

“Oh, stop being so prude,” he laughed. “I'm happy for you. 'Twas about time, too,” he remarked with a side-glance to the younger man and Bilbo resisted the urge to groan and put his head in his hands.

“Tell me,” Dwalin then demanded, looking at them expectantly. “Who made the first move? Was it Bilbo? I bet it was Bilbo.” He ducked and escaped the pillow aimed at his head, laughing like he'd just made the best joke ever. “Oh boy, this is gold,” he said as he wiped his eyes. “Does Dis know? I mean, 'course she _knows_ , but does she know?”

Thorin stared at him with his mouth open, dumbstruck, while Bilbo couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head. “We haven't told her yet. She'll visit for a few days after New Year's Eve, then she'll see for herself.”

He smiled at Thorin and reached out for his hand on the sofa, intertwining their fingers.

They eventually told him the story, leaving out the parts that he _really_ needn't know about as he was already joking enough about the whole affair, and when Thorin started recounting the night of the pine tree incident, Bilbo threw his arms up in exasperation.

“Please don't,” he groaned. Thorin's smirk was anything but assuring. “Oh my god!” he exclaimed and got up, leaving the room. He could still hear them laughing when he'd closed the door.

 

The days passed in a haze of chatter, teasing, many kisses and overall bliss, and then it was New Year's Eve. Which, of course, meant another party. Dwalin wouldn't hear any of it as Thorin suggested staying home and dragged them there, overly excited about the whole thing.

This party was a bit different than the others. Though some students had already returned to Erebor there were still considerably less people. It was calmer, but not a whit less merry.

Bilbo and Thorin sought a place for themselves and settled down with a drink (a non-alcoholic one for Bilbo). They leaned onto each other as they passed the time till twelve, watching the others dance while talking and occasionally kissing.

Some time before midnight the party was transferred outside, some people getting ready to start the firework. Bilbo stood with his back leaned against Thorin's torso, his boyfriend's arms embracing him from behind.

It was cold outside with the fresh wind blowing through their hair, but his coat and Thorin's body heat kept him from freezing.

The air buzzed with excitement as the crowd started chanting down the last seconds until midnight, clapping and shouting when the clock struck twelve. At the same time, the fireworks started and Thorin and Bilbo watched them silently, still standing close. They could even see the fireworks from Dale, setting the sky ablaze.

Thorin leaned down, caressing Bilbo's ear with his lips as he mumbled: “Happy New Year, little one.” Bilbo smiled and wished him the same, and together they watched the spectacle unfolding further.

And Bilbo glanced up at the sky with Thorin's arms around him and he didn't just see the fireworks; he saw the future. There was now, and there was tomorrow, and there'd be next week when Dis was coming, and three weeks from now when classes started again, and then even farther down the road his birthday in September, the first he'd celebrate with Thorin. And then next New Year's Eve, and at one point their last party here at Erebor. There was Thorin taking over the business of his father, Bilbo finding a job. Maybe buying a flat, a house, getting married.

If everything would happen that way, he did not know. Things could turn out completely different, after all. But he wished with all his heart to be there at Thorin's side, to see it all unfold with him. Together.

And he turned around to take Thorin's face in his hands, seeing the same spark in his eyes that he felt inside, and leaned in to seal the silent resolution with a kiss; the first of an endless number yet to come.

 


	15. Epilogue

_\- 10 years later -_

“I'm home!” Bilbo shouted when he opened the door. He was greeted by the noises of two people trying to talk to each other over the crying of a child. He felt a smile tugging at his mouth at the familiarity and entered the house, looking for the source of the fuss. “Thorin?”

He followed the sounds and found Dis talking to her brother loudly in the living room, trying to drown out her son's voice. Thorin shook his head before realising that Bilbo was standing in the doorway, looking more than relieved at the sight of his boyfriend.

“Oh thank god, you're home,” he called. “I didn't hear you coming back.”

“No wonder,” Bilbo mumbled and greeted Thorin with a quick kiss, then bent down to the boy.

“Hey, little man,” he said and caressed Fili's cheek, the boy looking up at him with big eyes. “What's the matter, why are you crying?”

“His uncle can't look after him like he's supposed to and now he thinks we'll leave him alone,” Dis replied and rolled her eyes. “I have my appointment in a bit and I can't take him with me, but Thorin has to go back to the office to do... whatever he does there. ”

She looked at Bilbo pleadingly, her eyes growing so big it almost looked comical. “Can you please, please look after him till I'm back? I know you're not on babysitting duty today because of those tests you have to correct, but it's an emergency.”

“Of course,” he replied immediately, laughing. "You know all too well how much I enjoy looking after Fili. No class tests could compare. My students will just have to wait a little longer." He winked at the child before returning his eyes to Dis. "Off you go,” he added and gestured her out the door. She sighed in relief.

“ _Thank you_. You saved me,” she said.

Fili had stopped crying and looked up at Bilbo again, his lower lip still wobbling a bit. Then he tugged on Bilbo's hand and Bilbo nudged his round cheek, smiling at the adorable sight. “We'll have fun, won't we, Fili?”

He nodded and Dis took her bag, exhaling another relieved sigh. Then she bent down to her son and wiped his cheeks as she said, “I'm going to the doctor's now and he will check on your brother.”

She patted her round stomach and Fili nodded understandingly. "Uncle Bilbo will look after you until I'm back. You won't be alone, alright? We'd never leave you alone." 

He nodded again, looking much happier now. “You be good,” she smiled and dropped a kiss on his messy blond hair. A moment later she was out of the door. Bilbo turned to Thorin, who was looking around for some documents.

“You have to go back to the company again?” he asked, and Thorin nodded.

“Short term meeting. Bofur just called. Won't be long, hopefully.” He sighed and ruffled his nephew's hair, then pecked Bilbo's lips. “I'll be back soon. You can start eating if I take too long. See you.”

“Bye, Uncle Thorin,” the boy crowed after him on his way out and Bilbo grinned, waving him goodbye as well. Then the door shut and they were alone. Fili released Bilbo's hand to go looking for his favourite stuffed toy and Bilbo got the chance to slip out of his jacket at last.

This was what their life looked like now. Messy and stressful, always quite unexpected and anything but easy - but nobody had ever said that it would be.

Bilbo smiled to himself as he went into the kitchen to prepare tea, listening to the sounds of his nephew rummaging through his toys.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anything else: Thank you! Thank you so much for reading, commenting, leaving Kudos, being interested in this story and supporting me all the way through it. I value it more than you can imagine!
> 
> Now, here's the thing.  
> I knew from the start that this fic would focus on the relationship, and I wrote it that way and this story is done. This AU, however, is not.  
> Knowing what I would include didn't stop my brain from planning out all the other things as well, so I suddenly found myself with a bigger plot that had no place here. There's a lot more for these two to come, so, yes, there'll be a sequel :)


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